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.“r- . v * 




Works by 

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EDITH TREVOR’S SECRET 


31 Newel. 

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BY 

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LEWIS, 

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Copyright, 1877 and 1892, 

BY ROBERT BONNER’S SONS. 
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( Ail rights reserved.) 



EDITH TREVOR’S SECRET. 


are 

the 


CHAPTER I. 

IN THE BLACK FOREST. 

N the midst of the Black Forest, in Ger- 
many, lies hidden the picturesque 
village of Zorlitz. Off the usual routes 
of travel, it is seldom visited by tour- 
ists, and still preserves its primitive 
simplicity of manners, costumes, and 
living. Its quaint houses, on either 
side of its two steep and narrow 
streets, resemble the toy-houses of 
Nuremberg manufacture. The prin- 
cipal occupations of the inhabitants 
the breeding and training of song-birds and 
carving of wooden toys. The annual visits 

[ 7 ] 



8 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


of the agents who purchase birds and toys for 
the great marts form the principal events of life in 
Zorlitz. The din and bustle of the great world 
never penetrates to this secluded spot ; the cares, 
passions, and anxieties of struggling existence in 
cities and towns are unknown to these simple pea- 
sants, who toil patiently, keep their old-time 
festivals, and live out their quiet lives in the homes 
they have inherited, content, and even happy, in 
their narrow lot. 

The principal building in the village is the little 
wooden Lutheran church, the only house of worship 
in Zorlitz. It stands upon a hill overlooking the 
hamlet, and close in its shadow is the pastor’s house, 
a quaint timbered dwelling, with steep roof, many 
balconies, and wide windows, set in a large garden 
which in their brief season is ablaze with flowers. 

The pastor of this little flock, a year or two ago, 
was Herr Brocken or Father Brocken, as he was 
affectionately called by his people. He was a 
German, of course, tall, gaunt, and scholarly-looking, 
with gray hair and bent figure, a kindly, simple- 
hearted man, devoted to his books, and finding in 
them and in his charge all that his soul best loved. 

He had been graduated from the University of 
Gottingen, and had been for some years thereafter 
a tutor in a noble family in the Grand Duchy of 
Baden. He had married, when quite elderly, a 
middle-aged governess, who had been employed 
in the same family with himself, and chance, or 


In the Black Forest . 


9 


providence, throwing in his way the pastorate of 
the little church at Zorlitz, he had accepted the 
humble charge with thankfulness, and had settled 
down in this out-of-the-world spot to the practice of 
his ministerial duties and the study of his beloved 
books. Here he had dwelt twenty years, the father, 
pastor and guide of his simple people ; here his wife 
had recently died ; and here he hoped to be buried. 
He was childless, his family consisting of an old 
housekeeper and a young girl known as his niece. 

This niece of the Herr Pastor was the idol of the 
good people of Zorlitz. She tended the peasants in 
their illnesses ; she visited the quaint old houses like 
a sunbeam, bringing with her always warmth and 
sunshine. She assisted the old school-mistress in 
her daily labor, instructing the maidens in the arts 
of embroidery and lace-making, in which .she was 
herself proficient. The children followed after her 
in her walks, happy in winning her smiling notice. 
And, more than all, she was the light of the old 
parsonage, the joy of the Herr Pastor’s life ; the 
one being whom he regarded with deep and 
especial tenderness. 

One afternoon in June, at the time we have 
indicated, Herr Brocken’s niece came forth from 
the little school-house, her self-imposed task for the 
day over, and, after making a call upon a sick old 
woman, began the ascent of the steep hill in the 
direction of the parsonage. When half-way up the 
slope, she turned aside into the woods, pursuing 


TO 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


a shaded path at a leisurely pace, swinging her 
broad-brimmed hat by its ribbons from her arm, and 
carroling a German song in a sweet voice that 
roused the birds to emulation. 

She was no prim, meek maiden, this niece of Herr 
Pastor’s — no patient young woman, content with her 
lot and seeking nothing better. She was no square- 
built, heavy-faced fraulein, slow of step and per- 
ceptions. 

She was about seventeen years of age, tall, slim, 
and graceful as a gazelle, with a beauty unmistak- 
ably English, and yet more unmistakably patrician. 
Her forehead was broad and low and very white, 
and was crowned with masses of crinkling, red- 
brown hair. Her nose was a delicate acquiline, her 
upper lip short, and exquisitely curved, betraying at 
times an unconscious haughtiness ; her mouth ten- 
der, sweet, yet often mutinous in its expression. 
Her complexion was of a delicate pallor, far removed 
from all suspicion of ill health. The crowning glory 
of this marvelously lovely and spirited face was the 
eyes, which were large and luminous, of a reddish- 
brown color, like her hair, and with a golden glint 
in them ; deep, dusky, haunting eyes, just now 
expressive of girlish discontent and unrest. 

This girl, with her wonderful beauty, which would 
have made a sensation in the queen’s drawing-room, 
with her exquisite refinement of looks and manner 
that declared her gentle birth and breeding, 
possessed a grandly generous nature, a warm heart, 


In the Black Forest . 


ii 


and impulsive temperament, and, withal, a personal 
magnetism that attracted every one to her. 

She had been thoroughly well educated, the good 
pastor and his wife having gloried in her keen intel- 
lect, and in her thirst for knowledge. They had 
taught her various languages of Europe, music, for 
which she had a positive genius, drawing and paint- 
ing, and various feminine arts ; but her accomplish- 
ments were among the least of her charms. 

The path came out upon a spring, whose clear 
pool was shadowed by bending trees. This was a 
favorite resort of the young girl, and she sat down 
upon the green bank, the song dying on her lips, 
and a strange gravity overspreading her face. 

“ Oh, dear !” she said, sighing ; “ I am so tired of 
this dear, stupid old Zorlitz. I wish that I could see 
something of the world outside. I have read of the 
great towns, of different people, of life beside which 
ours is stagnation. I am growing discontented. 
Must I live here all my life, and die, and be buried 
here, knowing nothing of any better existence ? If 
it were not for leaving uncle I’d beg to be allowed 
to go somewhere as governess. But I can’t leave 
him, and he will never leave Zorlitz. And yet I’d 
give half my remaining life for a change, if I might 
only go somewhere and see something of the 
world.” 

Did some mischievous spirit hear her complaint 
and resolve to grant her wish ? For a change in her 
life was close at hand — a change greater than even 


12 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


her vivid imagination would have dared conceive. 
That very hour was the last she would ever know of 
commonplace existence. Perhaps it was as well 
that she could not read the strange future before 
her, else she might have shrunk from it in terror 
and misgiving, preferring the safe shelter of Zor- 
litz parsonage in the depths of the Black Forest 
to the whirling vortex, the perils and troubles lying 
in wait for her in the great “ world outside.” 

She was still musing discontentedly when a sud- 
den rifle-shot rang out sharply upon the air, a deer 
went flying past, and a stinging pain in the girl's 
left arm sent a thrill of faintness quivering through 
her. 

A low cry escaped her lips as she realized that she 
had been shot. That cry was echoed from the hor- 
rified lips of two huntsmen, who bounded into the 
glade, and halted abruptly at sight of her. 

“By Jove!” cried one, speaking in the English 
language. “ A perfect Diana, Glenham ! And 
you’ve shot her !” 

The other raised his hand in an imperious ges- 
ture, commanding silence, and advanced towards 
the fainting girl, his countenance still wearing an 
expression of horror, in which were now mingled a 
deep pity and keen remorsefulness. 

The pastor’s niece had fainted quite away by the 
time he had reached her. Flinging down his 
unlucky rifle, the young man devoted himself to her 
recovery with peculiar gentleness and reverence, 


In the Black Forest . 1 3 


and with an assiduity that speedily recalled her to 
consciousness. She opened her eyes upon the 
strangers, blushed vividly, and arose unsteadily to 
her feet, retreating a few paces. 

“A perfect little queen !” cried the gentleman 
who had before spoken. “ Who would have 
dreamed of finding such a magnificent little beauty 
in this wilderness ? I say, Glenham — ” 

The girl’s pale face flushed scarlet. 

“ Pardon,” she said, speaking in English, with an 
accent as pure as that of the gentleman, “ but I 
understand English.” 

The two young men were, for the moment, cov- 
ered with confusion. Then the one who had been 
called Glenham addressed himself to the young 
lady, avowed himself the author of her injury, 
lamented his own awkwardness, and begged to be 
permitted to examine her arm to ascertain the 
extent of her wound, and to endeavor to alleviate 
her suffering. 

His evident sorrow, his chivalric courtesy, 
impressed the girl, who quietly gave assent, and 
permitted him to examine her arm. 

“ My friend, in his chagrin at his awkwardness, 
has forgotten to introduce himself,” said the gentle- 
man who had first spoken. “ Permit me to remedy 
his deficiency. He is Gordon, Earl of Glenham, of 
Yorkshire, England. And I have the honor to be 
his very good friend, Maldred Crafton. We came 
on an exploring and hunting expedition to these 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


x 4 


wilds, little expecting to find here a fellow-country- 
woman.” 

The young lady acknowledged the introductions 
with a bow, and responded : 

“ I fear that I cannot lay claim to the same 
nationality with yourself. I am Cecil Rosse, the 
niece of Herr Brocken, the Lutheran pastor of 
Zorlitz.” 

An increased pallor and sudden compression of 
her perfect lips brought Lord Glenham hastily to 
her assistance. She pushed up her sleeve, display- 
ing a white and rounded arm that would have been 
the admiration of a sculptor, and the young earl 
shuddered at the gaping, bleeding wound his bullet 
had made in traversing the dainty flesh. While he 
bathed the arm in the water of the pool and band- 
aged it to prevent the further flow of blood, Cecil 
Rosse surveyed him and his companion attentively. 

To the girl, reared in that secluded region, seeing 
beside her aged relative only the rude peasants of 
Zorlitz, young Lord Glenham appeared a very demi- 
god. 

He was strikingly handsome, with a distinguished 
presence, tall and nobly formed, with keen, gray 
eyes, a blond mustache shading a firm, well- 
shaped mouth which was capable of expressing 
every shade of emotion, and with a grand head 
crowned with little, close-curling rings of blond 
hair. He was about twenty-eight years of age, yet 
he retained a youthful freshness of feeling, was 


In the Black Forest . 


15 


chivalrous and noble in the highest degree, and was 
not only unmarried but he had never loved. 

His companion, Maldred Crafton, was his intimate 
friend and distant relative, who possessed a small 
fortune, was about thirty years of age, and also 
unmarried. The intimacy between the two men 
was inexplicable, for never were two persons more 
unlike than Lord Glenham and Maldred Crafton. 
His lordship was too noble and unsuspicious to dis- 
cern the real nature of his kinsman, which was sly 
and scheming, intensely avaricious, and utterly 
unscrupulous. Yet Craf ton’s exterior was plausible 
and insinuating ; he was singularly gentle in his 
manners ; and his black eyes and swarthy features 
had been too well trained to reveal the secrets of 
his soul. 

Cecil Rosse was not sufficiently skilled in physi- 
ognomy to read the characters of these two men. 
She only knew that she liked Lord Glenham, and 
with her liking came an instinctive faith in him. 
As for Crafton, she felt for him a singular distrust 
and an aversion that was destined to grow and 
strengthen into a stronger emotion. 

When Lord Glenham had completed his small 
attempt at surgery, and the wounded arm had been 
well bandaged, Cecil Rosse thanked him courteously 
and avowed her intention of hastening home. 

“ We will accompany you, Miss Rosse,” said the 
earl. “ No, do not refuse. You are not able to go 
alone. The loss of blood and the shock of the 


i6 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


accident have been too much for you. Lean upon 
me, else I shall think that you have not forgiven 
me !” 

Cecil took his arm and led the way by the forest- 
path in the direction of her home. A few minutes’ 
walk brought them out upon the steep village street 
and very near the parsonage. As they entered the 
little garden-gate, the old housekeeper, Gretchen, 
came out to meet them with loud expressions of 
alarm at the evident weakness of her young mis- 
tress. 

The old woman was but a peasant like her neigh- 
bors, but twenty years’ residence in the family of 
the Herr Pastor had given her a refinement that 
her neighbors lacked, and made her appear some- 
what above her condition. She fairly worshiped 
the pastor’s niece, and Cecil forced a smile and dis- 
engaged her arm from its support as she said : 

“ Push, Gretchen, you will alarm my uncle. I 
am not seriously hurt.” 

She hastened to explain the recent accident, and 
then invited her companions to enter the house. 

“ Hot now,” answered Lord Glenham. “But we 
will avail ourselves of your kind invitation to-mor- 
row, Miss Rosse, and call to inquire after your arm 
and also to pay our respects to the Herr Pastor.” 

He raised his hat courteously, and waited until 
Cecil had entered the dwelling with her old servant, 
and then he led the way down to the village. 

At a little distance from the parsonage Lord 



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In the Black Forest. 


T 7 


Glenham halted and looked back, a new light in his 
eyes, a new glow on his face. 

“You seem to have changed your plans, Glen- 
ham,” said Crafton, slowly, regarding his kinsman 
keenly. “ There is no inn in Zorlitz, and the pea- 
sant who took us in this morning has such beastly 
accommodations that you purposed going on to-day. 
Why do you remain until to-morrow ?” 

The earl turned towards his companion his glow- 
ing face. 

“ Do you believe in love at first sight, Crafton ?” 
he asked, abruptly. 

The swarthy face of Crafton lit up with a sullen 
glow. A sinister light leaped to his furtive eyes. 

“ Yes,” he said, huskily, “ I believe in love at first 
sight.” 

He did not add that his belief was of not an hour’s 
growth. 

“ Then, since you believe in love at first sight, you 
will not scoff at me,” said Lord Glenham. “ I love 
Miss Rosse, Crafton. I love her as Romeo loved 
Juliet at their first meeting ! As you know, I have 
never loved before. I have had a glorious ideal 
which, until now, I have never seen realized. Do I 
seem boyish ? Yet this love, which comes to me 
late and arouses all the ardor of my soul, is the one 
love of my life ! Crafton, I will win Miss Rosse to 
be my wife, or I will go down to my grave unmar- 
ried !” 

“You are hard hit, Glenham,” said Crafton, with 


i8 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


a little sneer. “ You don’t know who or what Miss 
Rosse is — ” 

“ I’ll stake my life on her purity and truth !” cried 
the earl, passionately. “ For the rest I care nothing !” 

“ She may be of vile parentage — ” 

“ I know better. But whatever she is, I love her. 
I shall stay here for the present, Crafton. Blessed 
be the fate that brought me here. And when I go 
hence, perhaps she may go with me.” 

The two men walked on together, Lord Glenham 
in a blissful silence, Crafton with his face averted 
and his features distorted in a malignant expression 
that would have startled his companion could the 
earl have seen it. 



CHAPTER II. 

A PATH OF THORNS. 

In accordance with his expressed intention, Lord 
Glenham called at the Zorlitz parsonage upon the 
day subsequent to that on which had occurred the 
accident we have narrated, and inquired anxiously 
after the health of Miss Rosse. He was accompanied 
by his friend, Maldred Crafton, and old Gretchen, 
after informing them that her young mistress would 
see them, ushered them into the Herr Pastor’s study 
and presence. 

Herr Brocken arose from his easy-chair and the 
perusal of a musty old tome to receive them. He 
was about Seventy years of age, venerable of 
aspect, with long, thin, bleached hair, a long, gray 
beard, his eyes concealed by spectacles, his mild, 
benignant countenance wearing an absent look, his 
entire appearance indicating the scholar and book- 
worm. 

The young earl introduced himself and his com- 
panion. The pastor had heard the story of the acci- 

[19] 


20 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


dent, and received his lordship’s fervent regrets and 
apologies with kindness, declaring that the wound 
Cecil had received was not serious in itself, and had 
been so well and promptly treated that no danger- 
ous consequences would result from it. 

“ Miss Rosse is your niece, I think she said, Mein 
Herr,” said Crafton pleasantly, his hard black eyes 
studying the old bookworm intently. “ She looks 
like an English young lady, and not at all German. 
And she speaks English, I notice, like an English- 
woman. Her name, too might be English. Pardon 
me, but my curiosity is quite piqued at finding a 
young lady of her distinguished appearance and 
remarkable beauty in a little forest hamlet like 
this !” 

The pastor’s face clouded. He said, briefly, as if 
he preferred not to pursue the subject : 

“ Cecil’s father was an Englishman. Ah,” he 
added, with a sigh of relief, “ here comes Cecil her- 
self !” 

The door opened and the girl came in with a 
gliding step and a peculiar grace that might have 
befitted a princess. The young men botlf arose, and 
she greeted them with a kindling flush, yet with a 
quiet self-possession that charmed them. 

They had noticed on the previous day that she 
was attired differently from the peasant maidens of 
Zorlitz. Upon this morning she wore a simple 
white gown, which clung to her slim shape in soft 
folds, unbroken by ruffle or tuck. A frill of lace 


A Path of Thorns. 


21 


rose about her throat, and frills of lace fell over her 
small hands. A rose fresh from the garden served 
as a brooch, and her red-brown hair crinkled in 
masses from her forehead, falling over her shoul- 
ders in ripples that glittered like gold in a stray beam 
of sunshine. The impression she had made upon 
the two young men on the previous day was 
strengthened and quickened into vivid passion dur- 
ing this second interview. 

When they went away, the resolve of each of the 
two men to woo, and if possible to win, Cecil Rosse 
had become the purpose of their lives. 

They settled themselves comfortably at Zorlitz, 
hunted in the forest, and visited the parsonage 
daily. Absorbed in his books, the Herr Pastor 
paid little heed to the visitors, whom Cecil enter- 
tained. June deepened into July, and August came 
and went, and still the Englishmen lingered at Zor- 
litz. No one but sharp-eyed old Gretchen suspected 
that they were the lovers of “ little Cecil," whom the 
villagers regarded as little more than a child. No 
one but old Gretchen saw the change in her young 
mistress, but she rightly interpreted the restlessness, 
changefulness, the capriciousness of Cecil as indi- 
cating a disturbed heart. 

“ She loves the English lord," the old woman said 
to herself, well contented. “ And he loves her. 
The Herr Pastor is failing, no one can see it but I, 
but when he dies the little fraulein will have a grand 


22 


Edith Trevor's Secret . 


home and a protector, and will not be driven to 
earn her own living, as I have often feared !” 

During these months at Zorlitz, Crafton had made 
inquiries among the villagers concerning the parent- 
age of Cecil Rosse. He had once or twice spoken 
upon the subject to Herr Brocken, who had evaded 
his questions, and this evasion had convinced him 
that there was some mystery about the girl’s origin, 
but none of the peasants could or would enlighten 
him. 

It was plain to Crafton that the young earl, with 
his blond beauty, was the favored lover of Cecil, 
but this conviction was by no means agreeable to 
him. Meeting the beautiful girl daily Crafton also 
had become enamored of her, and was filled with 
envy and jealousy of his companion. 

“ I shall win her !” he said to himself, grimly. 
“ I can work and wait. In spite of any obstacle in 
my path, in spite of Glenham’s beauty, rank, and 
wealth, in spite of the fact even that the girl loves 
him and dislikes me, I will win her ! I devote my- 
self, mind and body, heart and soul, to the task — 
but if I should fail — as I shall not — I would utterly 
destroy the girl before any other should possess 
her !” 

The hard, evil look in his eyes attested to the 
truthfulness of this declaration. 

It was now the last week in August. One morn- 
ing, as the two young men wandered together 


A Path of Thorns. 


23 


in the forest, rifles on shoulder, Crafton said, care- 
lessly : 

“ We’ve been here nearly three months, Glenham. 
How time flies ! Have you thought of your engage- 
ments for September? You remember that you 
invited a dozen guests to spend the month at your 
box in the Scottish Highlands ?” 

“ I remember, Crafton, although I had nearly 
forgotten it.” 

“ We must go home at once,” said Crafton, “ if 
you would not insult your invited guests, and 
mortally offend the most magnificent and the 
wealthiest woman in England. I mean Lady 
Trevor, of course. The charming widow is to 
spend September on her own Highland estate, 
adjoining your own, and her castle is to be filled 
with guests. You’re a lucky fellow, Glenham. I 
fancy that Lady Trevor would not object to chang- 
ing her name to Lady Glenham.” 

“ That is your fancy, Crafton, nothing more,” 
replied the earl, reddening. “ I admire Lady 
Trevor ; every one admires her ; but, as you well 
know, I have never dreamed of love or marriage 
until now. Perhaps you are jealous ?” he added, 
smiling. “ I remember that you always admired 
Lady Trevor.” 

“ But more particularly her fortune. I am 
reputed to be wealthy, but she has the veritable 
dross, Glenham, and if I had the ghost of a chance 
with her I might — I might — ” 


24 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


Crafton did not finish his sentence. The leading 
characteristic of his nature was his avarice. For 
wealth and a brilliant marriage with one like Lady 
Trevor he felt, at that instant, that he might be 
willing to relinquish love. He put the thought 
from him, however, as he recalled the image of the 
beautiful girl. 

“ I think,” said Lord Glenham, “ that I will go on 
to the village, and leave my rifle, and change my 
hunting-suit, and then visit the parsonage.” 

His look declared his purpose. 

“ You will go ‘ on matrimonial thoughts intent ?’ 
Well, good luck go with you, Glenham. You’ll 
succeed. An English earl, with a pedigree tracing 
back beyond the days of the Conqueror, with a rent- 
roll of twenty thousand a year, handsome, and all 
that sort of thing, don’t stand much chance of 
refusal from a little half-German girl, poor as 
poverty, and only a Lutheran pastor’s niece !” 

There was a bitterness in this assertion that Lord 
Glenham scarcely perceived in his annoyance. 

“ If Miss Rosse should accept me as her future 
husband, Crafton,” he said, gravely, “ she will do 
so through no consideration of my possessions — 
that I know.” 

He moved on with a rapid step, vanishing down 
the path leading to the village. 

Crafton wheeled about abruptly, and made his 
way by a short cut to the parsonage. 


A Path of Thorns. 


^5 


Leaving his rifle outside, he sought the Herr 
Pastor in his study. 

Herr Brocken arose wearily, betraying a physical 
weakness that a more observant person must have 
noticed. 

“ Alone, sir ?” asked the pastor. 

“Yes, alone,” replied Crafton, smiling. “My 
friend will be here presently upon a most important 
errand. You can guess it, perhaps ?” 

“ Not I,” said the scholar, looking puzzled. “ An 
important errand?” 

“ Yes, Mein Herr,” said Crafton. “ He will not 
like me to betray him, yet you must have noticed 
his admiration for your beautiful niece. Lord 
Glenham desires to marry Miss Rosse — ” 

“ To marry her ? Why, she is but a child !” 

“‘She seems a child to you, no doubt, but Glenham 
loves her and believes that she loves him !” 

The old scholar looked bewildered. He passed 
his hand over his forehead, and repeated Crafton’s 
words without appearing to understand them. 

“ Lord Glenham comes of an ancient family, 
noted for its wealth and its pride,” remarked Crafton, 
with the air of a mediator. “He will be a grand 
match for your niece, Herr Pastor. The Glenhams 
have all wedded rank and wealth, and my friend 
will be the first of his name who has wedded beneath 
him. For, of course, Herr Brocken, good as your 
family undoubtedly is, it is no match for Glenham’s. 


26 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


With his lordship’s intense pride, I hope he will 
never regret a marriage beneath him.” 

The pastor pushed his scanty and long locks away 
from his forehead with a trembling hand. 

“ I thank you for your forewarning, Mr. Crafton,” 
he said. “ This takes me quite by surprise. I know 
not what to say. If you will seek Cecil for a little 
while I will try to command my thoughts.” 

Crafton bowed assent, and sought Cecil in her 
own pretty sitting-room, which opened upon the 
garden. A little later he took his leave. He had 
scarcely departed when Lord Glenham made his 
appearance, and was shown by old Gretchen, in 
obedience to his request, into the pastor’s study. 

The young earl, in manly and straightforward 
fashion, declared to her guardian his love for Cecil 
Rosse, and asked permission to address her as her 
suitor. 

“ My lord,” said the old scholar, “ Cecil is not 
your equal in rank. The marriage is not suitable. 
She is but a child — far too young to marry.” 

“ She is my equal, Herr Pastor — more than my 
equal,” exclaimed Lord Glenham. “ What are the 
idle distinctions of rank in a case like this ? She is 
a lady born and bred. Your family, Herr Brocken, 
as I have heard you say, is good and honorable- 
What more can I ask than that my wife should 
come from such a family ? As to her age, that fault 
will remedy itself with time. I love her, Herr Pas- 
tor—” 


A Path of Thorns . 


2 7 


“ Pardon,” said the old pastor, raising his shaking 
hand. “ 1 had not thought to confess it, but you 
must know Cecil is not my niece — ” 

“ Not your niece ?” 

“ She is of English parentage. Can you not guess 
the truth ? She was sent here to be hidden from 
the world.” 

There was a brief silence. Then Lord Glenham 
asked, in a low, pained voice : 

“ Who were her parents ?” 

“ I do not know !” 

“ Is Cecil Rosse her real name ?” 

“ No, my lord. Listen. My wife had been a 
governess, and had had the care of children, whom 
she dearly loved. But after our marriage, after we 
had settled here, no children came to us, and the 
good wife pined for the sound of baby voices, the 
clinging of baby arms. And then it was that Provi- 
dence sent Cecil to us. One rainy night in autumn 
fourteen years ago, a traveling carriage drew up 
before the lighted window of our parsonage, and a 
man came in bringing a little child in his arms. The 
man was English, evidently of the rank of gentleman. 
The child was three years old, a beautiful little 
angel, who put out her arms to my wife and nestled 
in her bosom. Then the man told us that the 9 hild 
had no name, nor relatives, no place in the world, 
and that he wanted her brought up a simple peas- 
ant, and that he would pay a certain sum every year 
for her support if we would keep her. The good 


28 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


wife begged my consent, and the man went away 
and left the little one.” 

“ What was the man’s name ?” 

“ He did not give it,” said the pastor, simply. 
“ He did not stop in the village. No one saw him 
come or go. He was not in my house ten minutes.” 

“ And the child’s name ?” 

“ She called herself * Pet.’ She knew no other 
name, and whether that was a term of caressing, or 
the diminutive of some English name, we did not 
know. So my wife named her Cecil Rosse, after 
the first pupil the good frau taught. The history 
is simple, my lord. You know it all.” 

“ Has that man ever visited you since ?” 

“ Never. But once a year comes a little packet 
of money from the London post-office, without any 
word. My poor, proud Cecil ! For she is very 
proud, my lord, this little, nameless girl.” 

“ Does Cecil know her history ?” 

“ No ; I have not dared yet to tell her.” 

“ Then keep it a secret still from her. She must 
never know it. And give her to me, Mein Herr, if 
she will marry me, and let me guard and protect 
her.” 

“ You are generous, my lord, but this cannot yet be. 
You shall not marry her on a generous impulse. 
Besides, she is too young. Go back to your own 
country for one year, leave her to me, and if, another 
summer, you still love Cecil, come and claim her. 


A Path of Thorns. 


29 


But now you must not speak to her of love. She is 
but a child, she is only seventeen.” 

Lord Glenham argued the point with all the 
energy and ardor of a passionate lover, but the gen- 
tle old bookworm was inflexible. The good pastor 
felt that he had right on his side. Cecil was too 
young to marry. The earl should have time to 
consider the wisdom of his purpose, and Lord Glen- 
ham was forced to acquiesce in his decision. 

Cecil was called in, and the earl took leave of her 
in her guardian’s presence. His lordship’s tongue 
was silenced upon the subject of love, but his eyes 
told the tale his lips had been forbidden to utter, 
and the girl’s soul thrilled under his worshiping 
gaze. 

“ I am going away, Cecil,” said his lordship, with 
a tenderness he could not repress. “ 1 am going 
home to England, but I shall return next summer. 
Good-by, Cecil, good-by, my darling !” 

The sorrow in her sweet eyes robbed him of his 
self-control. He caught her to his breast and 
showered kisses on her pure young face in an irre- 
pressible agitation. Then, gently putting her from 
him, he wrung the pastor’s hand and dashed from 
the house. 

An hour later, Lord Glenham and Maldred 
Crafton left Zorlitz on their way to England, the 
latter promising to himself a speedy and secret 
return. 

That evening, as the good old pastor sat alone in 


30 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


his study, meditating upon the great event of the 
day, a sudden misgiving came to him, and he asked 
himself if he had indeed done wisely in sending 
away Cecil’s lover. 

“ If I were to die, what would become of her ?” he 
asked himself. “ And yet, how could I take advan- 
tage of his lordship’s generous love and permit him 
to marry a girl of unknown origin without having had 
time to consider the matter soberly, and removed 
from the glamour of her presence. A year will 
soon pass. If then he still wishes to marry her, I will 
be willing. But yet, my mind misgives me — what 
may not happen in a year ?” 

The door opened and old Gretchen came in, bear- 
ing in one hand a lighted candle, in the other a 
small packet upon which was impressed the London 
postmark. 

The annual sum of money sent for Cecil’s support 
by her unknown guardian had arrived. 

The pastor tore open the packet as soon as Gret- 
chen had retired. Two English banknotes fell 
upon his knee, and a folded sheet of paper, upon 
which he saw handwriting, followed them. 

The old scholar started, recoiling, his gentle face 
growing troubled and perplexed. 

“ A letter ?” he muttered. “ The first letter I 
ever received from Cecil’s former guardian. What 
has he to say to me ? Does he intend to take the 
child from me ? Is the long mystery of fourteen 
years to be cleared away at last ?” 



CHAPTER III. 

LEFT ALONE. 

Herr Brocken unfolded the mysterious letter, a 
strange agitation quivering through all his nerves. 
He believed himself to stand upon the threshold of 
the solution of the strange mystery of Cecil’s origin. 
A blur obscured his vision. He removed his spec- 
tacles and wiped them with a trembling hand. 
Then he spread out the sheet of paper, his eager old 
eyes fairly devouring its contents. 

The letter, as he noticed after reading it, was 
written upon plain white paper, without water- 
mark or imprint of any sort whatever. The hand- 
writing was coarse, and slanted backwards, with 
evident attempt at disguise. There was no date to 
the letter, which was as follows : 

“ Herr Brocken : It is now fourteen years since I 
left with you the little nameless child whom you 
agreed to bring up, and in all that time I have never 
written a line to you, nor have I heard from you 

[3i] 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


32 


directly, but I am aware that the child is, unfortu- 
nately, still alive. I have remitted regularly to you 
for her support the sum of fifty pounds per annum. 
I remit that sum herewith, as usual, in Bank of Eng- 
land notes. As she is now about seventeen years 
old, and quite able to make her own way, I shall 
not send any more money for her. As this is the 
first, it will also be the last communication you will 
ever receive from me. 

“ I suppose that she has been brought up, in ac- 
cordance with my instructions, as a German peasant 
girl. I suppose, also, that she is contented with her 
lot, since she has never known any other. If she 
should marry some wood-carver of your people, then 
my best wishes for her welfare will have been 
fulfilled. 

“ It is scarcely necessary for me to repeat what I 
told you fourteen years ago, that the girl has no 
friends save those she may have made at Zorlitz ; no 
relations ; and that the best she can do for herself is 
to live and die in the obscurity of the Black For- 
est. My care and concern for her end herewith. 
Neither she nor you will ever hear from me again.” 

There was no signature to this epistle. Herr 
Brocken read it over the second time and sighed. 

“ The unknown guardian washes his hands of 
Cecil,” he muttered. “ All connection between the 
girl and her early past is now completely severed. 
She will never solve the mystery, will never know 


Left Alone. 


33 


her origin. I almost wish that I had not sent Lord 
Glenham away, and yet I could not do otherwise. 
According to the traditions and usages of the world, 
a girl like Cecil, no matter how great her beauty, 
genius, and goodness, is no fitting wife for a great 
lord.” 

The door opened while his eyes were riveted on 
the paper, and Cecil came in slowly, half-shyly, 
her face paler than usual, her eyes red with 
weeping. 

“ What is it, liebchen ?” asked the pastor, tenderly. 
“ What troubles you ?” 

“ I am lonely, uncle,” cried Cecil, wearily. “ How 
tiresome the dear old parsonage is ! If we could 
only go away somewhere !” 

“ You miss the Englishmen, dear ? So do I,” said 
Herr Brocken, sorrowfully. “ Come, sit by me and 
we will comfort each other.” 

Cecil approached him more swiftly, and sat on a 
stool at his knee. And then her eyes rested upon 
the open missive. 

“ A letter, uncle !” she exclaimed. “ Who can 
have written to you ? Is it a last message from 
Lord Glenham ?” 

The pastor made a movement to put the letter in 
his desk, but changed his purpose. 

“ My dear,” he said, “ you seem somehow less of a 
child to me than usual fetf-night. My heart is heavy 
and sore with many burdens. Shall I lay them 
upon your young shoulders ?” 


34 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


The tender young face grew stronger at once, 
resolute and thoughtful, with a gravity and courage 
that touched the old scholar. 

“ I did not know that you were bearing secret 
burdens, uncle,” said Cecil. “ Let me help you 
Do you need money ?” 

The pastor glanced at the two bank-notes on his 
desk. 

“ No, dear, it is not any fear of poverty that 
troubles me,” he said, gently. “ I feel strangely 
weak. I realize to-night that I am growing old. 
I may not live another year, and there are things 
you ought to know. I will tell them to you now. 
Cecil, this handsome English lord asked me to-day 
for my consent to address you as your suitor.” 

The girl blushed and paled, and her eyes glowed 
with a swift and dazzling splendor. 

“ What did you say, uncle ?” she whispered, 
after a little pause. 

“ I bade him wait a year. I told him that you 
were too young to marry.” 

“ He loves me ! He loves me !” Cecil said to 
herself softly, her glorious young beauty radiant 
as a star. “ And he is coming back next year ! 
Oh, uncle, I am the happiest girl in all the world 
to-night !” 

The old pastor sighed and stroked her red-brown 
hair with a shaking hand. 

“ He may never return, Cecil,” he said, very 
gravely. “ He loves you now, but considerations 


Left Alone. 


35 


of worldly wisdom may decide him to seek a bride 
who is his equal — ” 

“ You allude to my being poor, uncle ?” 

“ Not that alone,’' said the old pastor, nerving 
himself to the task of telling Cecil the whole truth. 
“ Lord Glenham is rich, and would not care if his 
bride were poor. But he is proud, and when the 
first glamour of passion should be dissipated, he 
would reproach himself for having married a girl of 
no family — ” 

“Oh, uncle!” interrupted the girl, in loving 
reproach. “You are not titled ; you are no proud 
courtier ; but you are of gentle blood, and your 
niece is the equal of even a proud English lord !” 

Herr Brocken wiped the perspiration from his 
forehead. 

“ I feel strangely weak to-night,” he said, wearily. 
“ Who can tell what will happen ? It is time that 
you knew all, Cecil. Tell me, my child, have you 
never wondered that you look so little like me or 
the dear wife who was a mother to you ?” 

“ Why, no, uncle. My father was an English- 
man — ” 

“ Your mother, too, was English, for aught I know 
to the contrary. Child of my love and prayers, my 
darling, how can I tell you that not one drop of my 
blood flows in your veins ?” 

“ Uncle r 

“|t is true. Do not look at me like that, Cecil. 


36 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


Why, is it such pain to know that I am not your 
uncle ?” 

“Who, then, am I ?” asked the girl, wonderingly, 
with a white, bewildered face. 

“ I do not know. I do not even know your real 
name and parentage !” 

“ Uncle !” repeated Cecil, involuntarily. 

“ It is true, dear. You are certainly of English 
birth, that is all I know. There is a mystery about 
you which will never be solved in this world, Cecil.” 

“ A mystery ? You do not know who I am ?” cried 
the girl, in a quick, startled voice. “ How and where 
did you find me, uncle ? And my name — is not that 
a clew to my parentage ?” 

“ Your name, dear, was the gift of my good wife. 
You had no name save ‘ Pet,’ — none whatever. You 
are frightened, dear. Be brave and calm. It pains 
me to see that wild sorrow in your eyes, my child. 
I would have spared you the story, but it is right 
that you should know it.” 

“ It is right, uncle. Where did you find me ? In 
some asylum in the great cities ?” 

“ No, Cecil. Fourteen years ago, one rainy even- 
ing, a carriage stopped before our door and a man 
came from it and entered our dwelling with a little 
child in his arms. He told the good wife and* me 
that the child was nameless, friendless, poor ; that 
he wanted her brought up as a peasant ; and that 
he would pay fifty pounds a year for her support. 
The good wife was fond of children, and this one 


Left Alone. 


37 


was as beautiful as an angel. The child stretched 
out her arms to my wife and nestled in her bosom. 
The good wife's heart was won. She begged to 
keep the child, and the man put down the sum he 
had mentioned on the table and departed. We never 
saw him again !” 

“ The child was I ?” 

“ The child was you, Cecil. We took you into our 
hearts as our very own. Old Gretchen knew the 
story, but the villagers were content to believe you 
my niece. We did not bring you up as a peasant, 
as the man had enjoined. Even at three years of 
age, y°u were a perfect little lady, refined, gentle, 
and well-bred, with pretty imperious little airs that 
hinted of high station. If we had wished to make 
you a peasant, it would have been impossible. Gen- 
erations of culture had given to you remarkably 
keen perceptions, and a quick, strong intellect. We 
brought you up as if you had been our own child. 
I taught you the branches of a sound and thorough 
education ; my wife instructed you in music, paint- 
ing and other accomplishments. We thought that 
when we should be gone you could earn your living, 
as we did for so many years, by teaching.” 

Cecil kissed the hand she held and dropped tears 
upon it# 

“ You have been very good to me,” she said, 
softly. “ May God bless and reward you, dear 
uncle. My own parents cast me off — do you think 
it was because I was a disgrace to them ?” 


o 


Edith Trevor's Secret. 


The Herr Pastor bowed assent. 

The girl’s features were convulsed with keen, 
swift pain. 

“ Uncle,” she said, “ does Lord Glenham know all 
this ?” 

“Yes, dear. I told him to-day. I would not 
allow him to sacrifice himself to an impulse. In 
England, a marriage between him and you would be 
looked upon with abhorrence by people of his 
class.” 

“ What did he say ?” 

“ Of course he said that the mystery attaching to 
your origin mattered nothing to him,” said Herr 
Brocken. “ Love excuses everything.” 

“ And you think such a marriage would be wrong, 
uncle ?” 

“ Not so. If Lord Glenham stood alone in the 
world, with no one to be grieved by his acts, the 
marriage would be well enough. But Mr. Crafton 
told me yesterday that Lord Glenham’s mother is 
living, and that she fairly worships her son, and is 
particularly anxious that he should make a grand 
and suitable marriage. You would not wish to sow 
seeds of dissension between this mother and son, 
Cecil. I own, dear, that I see no prospect of your 
marriage with Lord Glenham.” 

Cecil sighed, and the pained look in her eyes 
deepened. 

“ Did you never hear afterward from the man 
who brought me here, uncle ?” she asked. 


Left Alone. 


39 


“We received the annual stipend he had 
promised in Bank of England notes regularly each 
year, but he never sent one word of message — never, 
until to-day !” 

Cecil glanced at the letter. 

“ is that from him ?” she asked. 

“ Yes ; read it.” 

The girl obeyed. The old pastor closed his eyes, 
and leaned back in his chair. His face looked 
singularly worn and sorrowful in the dim light, and 
there was a weariness in its drooping features that 
told of extreme physical weakness. No one marked 
the rapid change of expression in the young face at 
his knee, the passionate anguish in the sweet eyes, 
the tense lines about the lovely mouth, the bitter- 
ness, horror, and despair indicated in all her perfect 
features. 

The letter dropped at last from Cecil’s hand, and 
the bright head drooped to the pastor’s knee, while 
Cecil gave way to a burst of passionate weeping. 

“ My child,” said the old scholar, arousing him- 
self with his former bewildered expression, “ hush, 
dear, you pain me. I would have kept this from 
you if I had dared. Lord Glenham may come back. 
Goodness, beaxity, and genius are of more value 
than ancestry, and his mother may think so, too, 
and open her arms to you as to a daughter. Put 
the letter in your pocket. It may prove a clew 
some day.” 

He gathered up the bank-notes, opened his desk, 


40 


Edith Trevor's Secret. 


and took from an inner drawer a leathern pocket- 
book. 

“ Here are seven hundred pounds of English 
money,” he said, putting the two notes in the purse 
— “ all that your guardian ever sent me. This 
money is yours. Take it, Cecil. Keep it. No one 
knows what may happen. You may yet have sore 
need of it. I never used one penny of that man’s 
money for you, dear. We looked upon you as our 
own, and so provided for you, and I kept this as a 
provision for your future.” 

Cecil put the purse and letter in her pocket, as he 
again enjoined her. 

“ The good wife and I had saved from our earn- 
ings before our marriage,” continued Herr Brocken ; 
“ but we furnished this house from our money, and 
used a portion to eke out my slender stipend as 
pastor. About fifteen hundred thalers still remain 
in bank to my credit. Gretchen has served me and 
mine faithfully for twenty years. She is old and 
alone in the world. The money I leave should p-o 
to her.” 

“ Yes, uncle, but why do you say such things ? 
You are well ; you will live many years. Do not 
think of death.” 

The pastor smiled tenderly. 

“ I should like to live for your sake, dear,” he 
said. “ But for my own, I would like to see again 
the good wife. You need me. You will be like a 
lamb in a den of wolves when I am gone. I fear 


Left Alone . 


4 


for you — I tremble to think what you would do 
without my care and this safe shelter. If anything 
should happen to me keep Gretchen with you She 
loves you and will guard you with fidelity !” 

“You speak as if you expected to die. Are you 
ill, dear uncle ?” 

“Not ill, but very tired. And you are tired, too. 
The hour is growing late. There is only one thing 
more, and then you must go to bed, my darling.” 

He took from the desk a small packet, which he 
opened. 

“ The good wife wrote out the history of your 
coming here,” he said, “ and here it is. We both 
signed it. And the good wife, who was clever with 
her pencil, made that night, after your guardian’s 
departure, a sketch of his face. Here it is. It can 
do you no good, but as the man might have been 
your father, we preserved it for you !” 

Cecil seized the paper eagerly, and stared at the 
picture with great devouring eyes. 

It represented a young man with a fair, English 
face, a heavy, cruel mouth ; small, blue eyes, the 
left one having a peculiar droop ; and with a large 
mole on the left cheek. The face was hard, cold, 
and unpleasant, and Cecil shuddered as she studied 
it, feeling a quick sense of repulsion towards it. 

“ Do you think that he was my father ?” she 
asked. 

“ The good wife thought not. But he might have 
been. Men can be very cruel to their own flesh 


42 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


and blood when they are supremely selfish. Keep 
the picture, dear. And now, Cecil, we must say 
good-night !” 

Cecil arose, her anxiety dispelled by his placid 
look and gentle smile. Repressing her own 
emotion and agitation lest she should disturb him, 
she kissed him softly and moved towards the door. 

As she lifted the latch he called her back. 

“You have been a good child to me, Cecil,” he 
said, affectionately “ The world is full of perils 
and pitfalls, but God will guide and guard you !” 

Cecil knelt down beside him, and he laid his 
hands on her head and blessed her. Then he 
embraced her tenderly, as she arose, and dismissed 
her. 

The girl paused at the door and looked back at 
him with a vague anxiety, which was dispelled by 
the sight of his gentle, smiling face. She went 
softly up to her own room to brood over the story she 
had that night heard, and to wonder and weep in 
the passionate manner of youth, and to think of 
Lord Glenham, and finally to dream of him. 

The old pastor leaned back in his chair, still softly 
smiling, his pain and anxieties vanished, a blissful 
peace pervading his soul. His long, scanty locks 
fell around his venerable face, and his eyelids 
drooped wearily. 

“ Poor little Cecil !” he said to himself, yet without 
seeming to realize his words. “ I seem to have the 
gift of second sight to-night. A terrible future 


Left Alone . 


43 


yawns before her. Poor little one ! God shield 
her !” 

His smile deepened. The candle burned low and 
went out in a guttering noise. The shadows filled 
the study, and the night deepened, but still he did 
not stir. The kitchen clock struck loudly the hours 
as they passed, but he did not heed it. When 
morning dawned, he still sat in his easy-chair, his 
head thrown back, the gentle smile frozen on his 
features, which were rigid as marble. 

The old pastor had gone to join his good wife. 
He was dead, and Cecil Rosse was left alone in the 
world to meet the terrible perils in store for her ! 



CHAPTER IV. 

MR. PULFORD. 

Upon the northwestern coast of Scotland, in a 
grim, wild region, upon a high, precipitous bluff 
overhanging the seething ocean, sits throned a 
gray old castle, once the stronghold of a powerful 
Highland chief, who gathered his hosts of armed 
retainers within his walls in troublous times and 
bade defiance to his foes. 

The marriage of the daughter and only child of 
its latest Scottish owner had carried the ownership 
of Castle Cliff into the possession of an equally pow- 
erful English family, that of the proud Marquis of 
St. Leonards. 

The grim old stronghold had been skillfully 
modernized throughout half its extent without 
greatly marring its value as a relic of feudal times. 
The small slit-like apertures in the thick walls had 
been replaced by French windows, an oriel or two 
relieved the blank spaces, the stone floors had been 
replaced with oak, and other small improvements 
made, but the immense and cavernous chimneys 
[ 44 ] 


Mr. Pul ford. 


45 


remained intact, the dusky old wainscotings had 
been polished like mirrors, and the battlemented 
towers were unaltered. 

But Castle Cliff, with its air of desolate grandeur, 
was no longer a residence throughout the year. 
Lord St. Leonards visited it for a month or two 
nearly every autumn with a party of friends, shoot- 
ing in the vast woods, deer-stalking and fishing ; but 
he had grander estates in England, and returned to 
them regularly with the coming of cold weather. 

But the marquis was not expected at Castle Cliff 
this season. He was now seventy-five years of age, 
hale and vigorous still, and had by no means given 
up active pursuits and sports, but he had spent the 
summer at Vichy, in France, and was expected to 
remain there during the autumn. 

He had written to his granddaughter, Lady 
Trevor, placing the castle at the disposal of herself 
and friends during the month of September, and 
her ladyship, with a dozen chosen companions, was 
already in possession. 

It was the first week of September, a raw and 
chilly day, with a fine mist pervading the atmos- 
phere, blotting out the distant features of the land- 
scape and giving a funereal aspect to the woods 
and gardens, and to the dull, leaden-hued sea. 

The gentlemen had gone out with dogs and guns 
at an earlier hour, before the mist had begun to fall, 
and were not yet returned. The ladies had retired 
to their rooms to read, to write letters, or to sleep. 


4 6 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


Lady Trevor was in lier own private sitting-room 
alone. The great chimney yawned like a cavern, 
and she had caused to be built in it a fire of resinous 
pine that filled the room with warmth, light, and 
fragrance. The heat had driven her ladyship to the 
oriel window, where she half reclined in a luxurious 
lounging-chair and idly watched the sea below and 
her yacht which rocked upon it. 

Lady Trevor, the granddaughter and heiress of 
Lord St. Leonards, was the widow of a baronet who 
had had the reputation of being one of the worst 
scoundrels of his time. Sir Albert had been dead 
nearly two years, and his widow had re-entered 
society, creating a sensation by her beauty and 
wealth. She was always attended by an elderly 
companion, who was also a widow, and whose plain- 
ness of feature served as an admirable foil to her 
own beauty. 

The baronet’s widow was about thirty-three years 
of age, but owing to the skillful arts of the toilet 
appeared scarcely five-and- twenty. She was a tall, 
stately brunette, with an olive skin, flashing black 
eyes, abundant black hair arranged in the fashiona- 
ble style of the day, and with a full figure which 
was set off to the best possible advantage by costly 
Parisian costumes. Haughty and imperious, with a 
passionate love of luxury and display, she was 
utterly devoid of the softness and sweetness which 
are woman’s greatest charms, and was as hard and 
cold and glittering as her own treasured diamonds. 


Mr. Pulford. 


47 


She was already dressed for dinner, although it 
was but five o’clock, and dinner would not be served 
until seven. Her robe was a combination of claret 
velvet and cream-colored silk, which was strikingly 
effective and very becoming to her. Her ornaments 
were of rubies, large, and of the true “pigeon’s 
blood ” hue, with hearts of ruddy flame and the glow 
of burning stars. 

She had dismissed her maid and settled down to a 
survey of the gloomy sea and the drizzling mist, and 
to the enjoyment of her own thoughts. Tiring of 
these she pulled a bell, and when a servant appeared, 
commanded : 

“ Send Mr. Pulford to me.” 

The order was obeyed, and Mr. Pulford presently 
made his appearance. 

He was a man of middle age, with a florid com- 
plexion, small grey eyes, keen and furtive in their 
glances, and a full sandy beard that concealed his 
mouth, completely covering the lower half of his 
face. There was something sinister in his appear- 
ance, in spite of his insinuating manner — something 
stealthy in his approach — something sly and secret 
about him that would have impressed a student of 
physiognomy with a keen distrust of him. 

Yet he was a thorough gentleman in seeming, and 
was the trusted friend and adviser of Lady Trevor. 
He had been the business agent of her profligate and 
ruined husband, his favorite companion and friend, 
and was now the business-agent of her ladyship, her 


4 8 


Edith Trevor's Secret. 


secretary, her major-domo, the one person above all 
others whom she trusted — the only being whom she 
feared. 

“ Come in, Pulford,” said her ladyship, graciously, 
as he paused near the door. “ Have the gentlemen 
returned from their shooting ?” 

“ Yes, my lady,” answered Pulford, respectfully. 
“ They came in an hour ago, wet to the skin.” 

Lady Trevor turned her face away from the keen 
gaze of her secretary, and said, carelessly : 

“ Ah, by the way, Pulford, is Glenham Lodge yet 
occupied ?” 

Pulford’s face flushed, as he replied : 

“ It is, my lady. One of the gillies was at the 
lodge this morning, and he says that Lord Glenham 
and Mr. Crafton, with a dozen other gentlemen, 
arrived this morning.” 

“ The distance is but five miles,” said the widow, 
as if to herself. “ I should almost have expected 
Lord Glenham to call upon me — ” 

“ In this rain, madam ?” asked the secretary, with 
a slight curl of the lip. “ His lordship may not be 
aware of your decided preference for him. If he is 
aware of it, it is evident that he does not return it.” 

Lady Trevor turned upon her secretary a counten- 
ance white with anger. 

“ How dare you speak in that manner to me, sir ?” 
she demanded, haughtily. “ You forget yourself, 
Mr. Pulford. Repeat this insolence, and I will have 


Mr. Pulford. 


49 


you thrust from my house — I will dismiss you from 
my service.” 

Mr. Pulford smiled easily, not at all disturbed by 
this threat. 

“ It is you who forget yourself, madam,” he 
remarked, coolly. “Just reflect one moment. 
What would happen if you should ‘ dismiss * me 
from your service ?” 

The lady’s eyes quailed before his sneering look. 
Her anger gave place to fear. 

“ Of course I did not mean that, Pulford,” she 
said, in a constrained voice. “ You are too valuable 
to me to be dismissed, but you must never speak to 
me in that manner again.” 

“ Perhaps it would be well for us to come to some 
sort of an understanding, madam,” remarked Mr. 
Pulford. “ I served your husband faithfully for 
many years. I was his confidant, his bosom friend, 
his other self. When he died, nearly two years ago, 
I continued in my former business duties, attended 
to your estates, became your secretary, and was as 
meek and respectful to you as any servant. Is not 
this so ?” 

“ Why should it not be so ?” demanded Lady 
Trevor, imperiously. “ Are you not paid a salary 
that many a nobleman would envy you ? Are you 
not treated as my equal, admitted to my house and 
table at all times ? Are you not here among my 
guests, equally honored with them ?” 

“ True, and so far good, madam. But I have a 


50 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


right to all this, and more than this. I am a gentle- 
man by birth, and therefore you dare not offend 
me. Do you remember a conversation between you 
and me ten months since in Lord St. Leonards’ 
country-house ?” 

The lady’s eyes emitted a sudden flash of renewed 
anger. 

“ You do well to remind me of your insolence on 
that occasion, Mr. Pulford,” she exclaimed. 

“ My insolence consisted in asking you to be my 
wife,” said Mr. Pulford, quietly. “ You were 
angry, I remember, but finally refused me on the 
ground that the baronet had been dead but a year, 
and that you dared not risk offending Lord St. 
Leonards, your grandfather, by a second marriage 
so soon. I respected your objections, and resolved 
to wait. I have waited. During the past ten 
months I have not breathed to you one word of love. 
But the time is now come when I must speak. Your 
growing preference for Lord Glenham demands my 
interference. It will be as well that our relations to 
each other should be settled definitely before Lord 
Glenham appears at Castle Cliff. And so I now 
renew my proposal of marriage.” 

“ You forget yourself,” cried her ladyship, 
haughtily. “ How dare you address me in words 
like these ? I your wife ? Why, you must be 
mad !” 

“ Not so, madam,” said Mr. Pulford, smiling. 
" When Sir Albert Trevor died, worn out with dis- 


Mr. Pulford. 


51 


sipations, I resolved to step into his shqes, and I 
shall not be likely to relinquish the purpose I have 
sworn to accomplish. I am your paid servant, but 
also I am your master !” and his cold eyes glittered 
like drawn swords. “ I await your answer to my 
proposal.” 

“It is impossible — utterly impossible !” cried 
Lady Trevor, excitedly. “ I married Sir Albert 
Trevor against the wishes of my grandfather, who 
has never forgiven me, and has never since looked 
upon my face. The marquis is proud as Lucifer. 
He has never forgiven me for linking his noble, 
unstained name with that of the roue and gambler, 
Sir Albert Trevor. He has permitted me to visit his 
estates — in his absence — but, in spite of all my let- 
ters, in spite of my widowhood, he still refuses to see 
me or forgive me. He always abhorred me from 
my birth, and now he regards me with a bitterness 
of anger that all my efforts have been unable to 
lessen. How, then, would he, this haughty old mar- 
quis, look upon my marriage with you, whom he 
regards, if he has ever heard of you, as my paid ser- 
vant ?” 

“ He would look upon it with horror, of course,” 
said Mr. Pulford, easily, “ but we could keep our 
marriage secret for the present. He is seventy-five, 
and cannot live many years at the best. I should 
not wish to risk his further displeasure with you, for 
he is likely, after all, to make you his heiress. You 
are his only descendant and the natural inheritor of 


52 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


all his magnificent freehold property, bank accounts, 
stocks, and that sort of thing. His wealth, added 
to the immense fortune you inherited from your 
step-mother, would make you the richest woman in 
the world. You have schemed to win his favor, and 
you have hitherto failed, yet I cannot think that he 
will bequeath his unentailed property away from his 
rightful heiress.” 

“ He must leave it to me,” said Lady Trevor, with 
a greedy gleam in her black eyes. “ I wrote to him 
asking the loan of Castle Cliff for the month of Sep- 
tember. And I told him in my letter that Lord 
Glenham would be at his Highland box during the 
same month, and consequently my near neighbor- 
Lord Glenham was my grandfather’s ward, the son 
of his distant kinsman and dearest friend, and the 
heir to Lord St. Leonards’ title and entailed estates. 
Now if I were to marry Lord Glenham — ” 

“ The marquis would take you to his heart. But 
this cannot be. I demand your hand in marriage, 
Lady Trevor. You must be mine. I love you, in 
spite of your pride, your domineering ways. I should 
be proud of you, with your handsome face and 
stately figure. And, more than all, I am determined 
to share your wealth. You dare not again refuse 
me — ” 

“ I dare — ” 

“ Remember that I hold you as in the hollow of 
my hand and can crush you as easily as I could 
crush an egg-shell,” said Mr. Pulford, in a terrible 


Mr. Pulford ’ 


53 


voice and with a terrible look in his eyes. . “ Do you 
dare me to do my worst ?” 

Lady Trevor shivered as with an ague. 

“ No, oh, no !” she whispered. u But listen to 
reason. I cannot marry you, Pulford. I should as 
soon think of marrying my footman. I will double 
your salary — I will help you to marry some lady of 
title, so that even your ambition will be satisfied — ” 

“ I will marry you, Edith Trevor, and none 
other !” interrupted Mr. Pulford, with an oath. “ You 
are in my power ! I know your secret — the hideous 
secret — a revelation of which would doom you to 
prison, high-born lady as you are ! Do you dare 
defy me ? Do you again refuse to marry me ? 
Refuse, and I’ll expose your crime ; I’ll betray you 
to the police ; I’ll send you to the felon’s dock !” 

He hissed the words in her ears and stood gloating 
in anticipated triumph. 

Lady Trevor cowered before him, and covered 
her white face with her hands. 

A moment of tragic suspense followed. 

It was broken by a knock at the door. Pulford 
started away and walked to a farther window. The 
baronet’s widow raised her face, now white and 
haggard, as the door opened and a servant entered. 

“ The Marquis of St. Leonards has arrived, my 
lady,” announced the lackey, “ and desires to see 
your ladyship !” 

“ The marquis ? My grandfather ? Here ?” cried 


54 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


Lady Treyor, in an irrepressible agitation. “ Show 
him up at once !” 

The servant withdrew. Pulford approached the 
lady, with flushing face and glittering eyes. 

“ What could have brought Lord St. Leonards 
here to see you after having refused to look upon 
your face since your marriage fifteen years ago ?” 
he demanded. “ Something’s in the wind. Per- 
haps he feels his age and desires to make peace with 
his only living descendant before he dies. Play 
your game well, Edith,” he added, familiarly, “ and 
all his wealth shall be yours.” 

“ Go — leave me !” 

“ I will, but to-morrow I shall come to this room 
for your answer to my proposal of marriage. Dare 
to refuse me and I doom you to the felon’s dock, 
the prison cell ! To-morrow at this hour, and 
here !” 

With an evil smile on his face, Mr. Pulford 
quitted the room by one door as Lord St. Leonards 
was ushered in at the other. 



CHAPTER V. 

COMPLICATIONS. 

As the Marquis of St. Leonards was ushered into 
the private sitting-room of Lady Trevor, her lady- 
ship arose, still white and haggard from the excite- 
ment of her interview with Mr. Pulford, and moved 
forward a few paces, endeavoring to summon a 
smile of welcome to her quivering features. 

She had not seen her grandfather in fifteen years 
— not since her marriage with the profligate Sir 
Albert Trevor. As his lordship was now seventy- 
five years of age, she expected to behold in him 
some of the infirmities of age, but none were 
visible. 

He was tall, straight, and vigorous as a man of half 
his years. He was large of frame, of imposing aspect 
and commanding carriage, with the appearance 
of a French military officer. His hair was snow- 
white, his heavy mustache was snow-white also, 
but his eyes were keen and piercing, his grand 
and haughty features were indicative of a passion- 
al 



56 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


ate soul and a powerful will unweakened by time, 
and his abundant vitality promised him a score of 
additional years. Lady Trevor could not conceal 
her surprise even under her mask of joy. 

“ Dear grandfather !” she faltered, holding out 
her hand. “ This is an unexpected pleasure. I am 
delighted — more than delighted — to see you !” 

“ Humph !” said the old marquis, not taking her 
proffered member. “ Resume your seat, Lady 
Trevor.” 

“ May I not accept your presence here as a token 
of your forgiveness of my willfulness of fifteen 
years ago ?” asked the baronet’s widow, now 
mistress of herself, and eager to conciliate her 
powerful and wealthy relative. “ Oh, grandfather, 
if you only knew how bitterly I have repented my 
foolish marriage, my madness in disobeying you, I 
know you would pity and forgive me ! Dear 
grandfather, will you not love me again — your only 
living descendant ?” 

“ Humph !” said the marquis again, studying 
her dark, handsome face attentively. “ Don’t 
appeal to me with sentiment, Edith. I never loved 
you and you know it.” 

This brusque declaration was only too true, and 
Lady Trevor, somewhat discomfited, sank down in 
her easy-chair, livid with chagrin. 

The marquis remained standing, contemplating 
her with a smile that had something of mock- 
ery in it. 


Complications. 


57 


The state of feeling between Lord St. Leonards 
and Lady Trevor may be briefly explained. 

The marquis had married early, and had had but 
one child born to him, a son, a noble, impetuous, 
wayward youth, who had been the pride of his soul, 
the very apple of his eye, and the source of many 
and bitter anxieties. The young man, Lord Harry 
Ravendale, had been excessively wild, but his crown- 
ing folly had been his marriage with a scheming 
adventuress, older than himself, when he was but 
twenty years of age. For this his father had cast 
him off, refusing to see or forgive him. The adven- 
turess had made her husband’s life a burden to him, 
had tortured him with jealousy, and brought him to 
such a condition of despair and remorse that he had 
seriously contemplated suicide. 

And then, just a year after his marriage, as if 
Providence were satisfied with his punishment, his 
wife had died in giving birth to her child, the Lady 
Edith, and the repentant youth had returned to his 
father like the prodigal son, and had been received 
with open arms and a complete forgiveness. 

He was re-instated in his father’s house and heart. 
Completely cured of his wildness and waywardness, 
the young man became all that his father could 
desire, and years of quiet happiness followed. The 
Lady Edith was brought up in her grandfather’s 
house, but she had the face and disposition of her 
adventuress mother, and the marquis never liked 
her. 


5 * 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


It was the hope and prayer of Lord St. Leonards 
that his son should marry again, but the little Lady 
Edith was ten years old before her father contracted 
a second marriage. 

The second wife of Lord Harry Ravendale was a 
perfect contrast to her predecessor. Of noble fam- 
ily, the possessor of a magnificent fortune, rarely 
beautiful, an orphan, she was lovely and affectionate 
in her disposition, a sweet, gentle girl, who won the 
love of her stern and haughty father-in-law, and who 
was to her husband a sufficient recompense for his 
previous sorrows. 

Of this second marriage, some years later, was 
born one child, also a girl, who became the idol of 
the marquis. Never had he loved his own son as he 
loved the winning little beauty who climbed his 
knees and pulled his mustaches with baby lawless- 
ness, and whose happiest moments were passed in 
his arms. 

The young step-mother had endeavored to win 
the love of Lady Edith, but had found the task 
impossible. The girl was sly and secret, full of envy 
and frowardness. Even the father could feel no 
tenderness for her, and she crowned her shortcom- 
ings by an elopement and marriage with a dissolute 
baronet, Sir Albert Trevor, against whom her rela- 
tives had warned her. 

Both father and grandfather declined to see her 
again, or accord her forgiveness. ' 

At the time of Lady Edith’s marriage she was 


Complications . 


59 


eighteen, and little Alba was two years old. Lord 
Harry Ravendale’s young wife at this period con- 
tracted a serious cough, and her husband took her 
and his child to Italy for the benefit of the Southern 
climate. 

Within a month thereafter Lord Harry died of 
malarial fever, and his remains were forwarded to 
England, and were buried in the Ravendale ances- 
tral vault. 

Lord St. Leonards was at the^time prostrated with 
a severe attack of gout. The young widow’s illness 
was increased alarmingly by her grief, and in her 
helplessness and misery she wrote to Lady Trevor 
to come to her. 

Lady Edith obeyed the summons, accompanied 
by her husband. The step-daughter nursed the 
young widow for several months, and then the poor 
lady died, breathing blessings upon her nurse, and 
committing to her charge her little orphan child, 
enjoining her to convey little Alba to England with 
all speed, and place her in Lord St. Leonard’s 
charge. 

It is needful here to state that Lord Harry’s 
widow made a will during her last days, leaving all 
her wealth to her daughter Alba, with reversion to 
the Lady Edith, her step-daughter, should Alba 
die un wedded before attaining her majority. 

Lady Trevor set out for England, and by a round- 
about course, with her little sister. She spent some 
weeks in Switzerland, and other weeks in Germany, 


6o 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


and months in France, ostensibly for the improve- 
ment of her health, which she alleged to have been 
impaired by her long attendance upon her step- 
mother. Meanwhile, the marquis chafed and 
fretted at home, £till imprisoned by his malady. 
Finally, he sent an agent to take the child from 
Lady Trevor. The agent found the baronet and 
his wife, with Mr. Pulford, the baronet’s friend and 
business-man, at a Paris hotel, enjoying the pleas- 
ures of the capital. 4 He demanded the child. Sir 
Albert Trevor rang the bell, and ordered the nurse 
to bring in the little one. The nurse, a big Flemish 
woman, who had recently been engaged by her 
present mistress, obeyed. 

The marquis’s agent started at sight of the child 
and turned pale. Here was no bright, debonnair 
little creature such as he had expected to see, but a 
thin, ghostly child of three years, with wan eyes and 
hollow cheeks, and with the shadow of death hover- 
ing over it. 

“She has inherited her mother’s feebleness of 
constitution,” said Sir Albert Trevor. “ My wife 
did not like to take the little wreck home to Lord 
St. Leonards, hoping that she would grow better. 
As you see, we have waited too long. The child is 
dying !” 

He spoke truth. Before sunset the child was 
dead. Her remains were taken to England and 
there interred. The marquis sent his curse to Lady 
Trevor for her delay in rendering up her charge 


Complications. 


61 


into his care, declaring that she had died of neglect, 
and that Lady Trevor was her murderess. 

The baronet and his wife entered into possession 
of the wealth thus acquired. They took a prominent 
place in society. They lived in great state, and 
were envied and courted. Then, years later, Sir 
Albert Trevor died. 

During all these years the marquis had never 
seen Lady Edith. After her husband’s death she 
wrote to the old lord, throwing all the blame of her 
shortcomings upon Sir Albert, and professing an 
agony of repentance and remorse, and he so far 
relented in his treatment of her as to permit her to 
visit his home once in his absence, and now to spend 
a month with her friends at Castle Cliff. 

It may be imagined, therefore, with what mingled 
emotions of fear, hope, and timidity Lady Trevor 
now beheld him. 

What was his object in seeking her ? Had he 
come to reproach her after all these years ? Or was 
he tired of his loneliness and childlessness, and was 
he willing to forgive her and acknowledge her as 
his heiress ? 

“ It is many years since we met, Edith,” said the 
marquis, coldly. “ You have changed little in looks. 
I suppose you are the same at heart. I did not 
come here with any romantic notions of love and 
forgiveness, as you possibly imagine, but for reasons 
of my own, which you will know.” 

“ But will you not pardon my errors ?” asked Lady 


62 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


Trevor, with an energy of pleading that was not all 
affected. “ Grandfather, I have suffered from our 
estrangement. I am alone in the world, a childless 
widow. Why will you not suffer me to minister to 
your declining years, to be to you a loving- 
daughter ? — ” 

She half rose, stretching out her hand to him. 

He waved her back with an imperious gesture. 

“Why?” he demanded, bitterly, his black eyes 
flashing upon her a scathing glance of scorn and 
loathing. “ Because a little child’s grave lies between 
us, a barrier that can never be crossed, never ! 
When I think of little Alba, the darling of my old 
age, the child of my love and hopes, I could curse 
you again, Edith Trevor, as I cursed you years ago. 
You made my life desolate. You robbed me of her 
— you murdered her — ’ ’ 

Lady Trevor recoiled with a low cry, her face 
white, her eyes full of fear and horror. 

‘‘I did not !” she ejaculated, vehemently. “ How 
can you accuse me of such a crime ? Am I not of 
your own blood? Was not the child my sister? 
How dare you accuse me of murdering her ?” 

“You and your unprincipled husband, Sir Albert 
Trevor, planned to take advantage of your step- 
mother’s will — a will which doubtless you persuaded 
her to make. In her condition, dying in a foreign 
land, her husband already dead, she was your prey, 
and you fattened upon her like the vampire you 
were. But for my illness of months at that time, 1 


Complications . 


63 


might have saved the child,” and the marquis 
groaned heavily. “ You kept her from me. You 
planned her death — ” 

“ Grandfather !” 

“ I have been to Rome recently,” said Lord St. 
Leonards, fixing his burning gaze upon his grand- 
daughter with a steadiness that made her quail. “ I 
have traced your route home with the child — ” 

Lady Trevor gasped for breath. A new terror 
seemed to overwhelm her. She stared at the old 
lord with wild and horrified eyes. 

“ I have found that you dismissed at Roipe the 
faithful nurse of little Alba, on a trumped-up charge 
of theft,” continued the marquis, “ and that you 
hired an Italian nurse, whom you took with you to 
Switzerland — and that you kept her some weeks in 
your service, taking her to Vienna, where you dis- 
missed her upon the ground of incompetence. And 
then, for some weeks, the child had no other nurse 
save yourself, you professing to find no one suf- 
ficiently trustworthy to take charge of her. You, 
with Sir Albert Trevor and a bosom friend of his, 
named Pulford, went wandering about Germany, 
visiting different baths, ostensibly for the child’s 
failing health. You stopped at Baden — ” 

Lady Trevor clasped her hands in the attitude of 
one awaiting sentence of death. 

“ And then you procured another nurse for her, a 
big Flemish woman, who had just been discharged 
by her former mistress, and who was a stupid crea- 


6 4 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


ture, with a vacant face and slow, heavy movements, 
unintelligent, a mere animal, the last person in the 
world to whom should have been entrusted the, care 
of a delicate child. You proceeded to Paris and 
plunged into gayeties, while Alba, consigned to the 
Fleming’s mercies, was dying. My agent arrived to 
take her from you, but too late. She died on that 
same day. The suspicion has often haunted me tha-t 
you poisoned the child.” 

“ Grandfather, how can you speak such words to 
me ?” exclaimed Lady Trevor, recovering from her 
cowardly prostration, as if a terrible burden had just 
been removed from her. “ You would accuse me of 
poisoning my step-sister ?” 

“ I said that the suspicion had haunted me, but I 
must acquit you of that crime. The French certifi- 
cate of death, and the examination I caused to be 
made upon the arrival of the little body in England, 
proved that she died of marasmus. But none the 
less do I believe you to be the cause of her death. 
The little frail body had not been well nurtured. 
You had neglected her, ill-treated her, and deliber- 
ately planned her death that you might inherit her 
wealth ! That I do religiously believe !” 

“ You wrong me, grandfather. My stepmother 
was very kind to me. When all others looked coldly 
upon me she tried to win my love. When I was 
cast off by you and my father for my foolish, willful 
marriage with Sir Albert Trevor, she pleaded for 
my forgiveness, although she pleaded in vain. And 



EDITH SAT LONG IN THE RUDDY LIGHT. — Nee Page 86 








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Comp l tea tions. 


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when she lay ill in a foreign land, she sent for me 
and clung to me. She confided her child to my care. 
I could never have repaid her love and trust by the 
awful crime of ydiich you suspect me !” 

“ You were poor. Sir Albert Trevor was a ruined 
profligate who had wedded you in the expectation 
of receiving a fortune with you. He was a bad man, 
a villain and a scoundrel. You inherited your 
mother’s lawless nature. Guided by Sir Albert 
Trevor, I believe you would have been capable of 
any crime. I acquit you of poisoning the child, but 
I believe that you schemed against her life, that you 
planned to inherit her wealth, and that her loss lies 
directly at your door and that of your dead hus- 
band !” 

Lady Trevor put up her hand to hide her convulsed 
features. An expression of terror was imprinted 
upon them, with a look of guilt which it was well 
for her that the stern old lord did not see. 

The marquis walked to a distant window and 
stared out upon the leaden-hued sea, and the yacht 
half-blotted out of sight by the gray, thick mist, and 
made a powerful effort at self-control. The sight of 
Lady Trevor had aroused all his bitterness of soul. 
His bitter wrongs at her hands aroused him to fury. 
But presently he calmed himself outwardly and 
returned to her, with a face cold and hard as 
marble, and eyes as keen as sword-thrusts. 

“ Enough of the past,” he said. “ The sight of 
you brought it all back and aroused all the venom 


66 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


within me. It is barely possible that I may have 
wronged you. If you have the blood of that adven- 
turess in your veins, you are also my son’s child and 
should have something of his noble nature. You 
mentioned in your letter to me, requesting permis- 
sion to visit Castle Cliff, that Lord Glenham would 
spend this month at the Lodge,” he added, turning 
the subject abruptly. “ Directly after I received 
your letter rumor came to my ears that Lord Glen- 
ham was your suitor. Is this true ?” 

Lady Trevor straightened herself from her cower- 
ing attitude, and assumed an air of coquetry in 
striking contrast with her recent abjectness. 

“ Rumor speaks too soon,” she said, settling her 
bracelets. “ Lord Glenham has certainly not yet 
proposed for my hand, if that is what you mean.” 

“ He is years younger than you — ” 

“ But looks older,” said Lady Trevor, with a com- 
placent glance at an opposite mirror. “ I do not 
proclaim my age, grandfather, and Lord Glenham 
does not think me greatly his senior.” 

“ Is there truth at the bottom of the rumor ? Do 
you like him ?” 

The brunette face flushed. The full curves of 
cheek and chin, the sensuous lips, the glittering 
black eyes, all quivered and softened with feeling. 

“ I do like him,” she assented, with an affectation 
of frankness. “ More, 1 love him better than I love 
any one else. He has paid me many attentions, 
but has never professed to love me. A month in 


Conclusions . 


67 


the Highlands will, I hope and believe, bring him 
to my feet.” 

“ Humph !” said the marquis. “ If you are really 
what I often believe, I’d rather see him dead than 
your husband. But if I have wronged you, his love 
may make of you a good woman. Glenham is the 
noblest of men, a grand and generous soul, made to 
win men’s reverence and a woman’s worship. To 
receive him as my grandson would give me a new 
hold on life — a new and great joy, such as I never 
expected to experience. As you know, he has a 
great fortune in his own right, is a baron, and, com- 
ing of a distant branch of my family, will at my 
death become Marquis of St. Leonards, and the 
possessor of my entailed estates. He will be 
Marquis of St. Leonards and Earl of Glenham, one 
of the richest men in England. His wife will have 
a brilliant destiny !” 

“ I know it,” said Lady Trevor, “ and I intend to 
become his wife !” 

The old lord paced the floor restlessly. 

“ I will come to the chief purport of my visit,” he 
said, presently, with some effort. “ I should never 
have seen you again, Edith, had it not been for 
Lady Glenham.” 

u Lady Glenham !” 

“ She wrote to me at Vichy. She is very proud — 
as proud as I, myself. Knowing her son to be the 
next in line of inheritance to my title, and for other 
reasons, she wrote to say that she would like to 


68 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


bring about a marriage between my granddaughter 
and her son. The rumor had reached her ears, also, 
of an engagement between him and you, and that 
rumor set the current of her thoughts in your 
direction.” 

“ I am grateful to the countess,” said Lady 
Trevor, reddening with delight, “ the more so that 
she has never seemed to like me. My mother’s 
character and my husband’s profligacy have always 
seemed to make her cold and distant to me. What 
can have changed her so ?” 

“ A simple cause. She looks upon her son’s mar- 
riage with you as infinitely better than one he con- 
templates. He does not love you, Edith, although you 
may think so. He has fallen into the toils of an 
adventuress, just as my son did. These noble, 
unsuspecting natures are most easily imposed upon. 
Lord Glenham has fallen in love with a nameless 
woman, a person whose very birth is unknown, and 
he desires to marry her, and begs his mother not 
only to receive the girl as her daughter, but to go 
to Germany and see her. Was ever such madness ? 
It is the old story of my son over again.” 

The stern and haughty face of the marquis 
grew sterner and haughtier as he continued his 
walk. Lady Trevor,' with sudden pallor, leaned 
back in her chair. 

“ Impossible !” she whispered. 

“ It seems,” continued the old lord, “ that the girl 
sent the earl away for a year — a streak of coquetry, 


Conclusions. 


69 


of course. No doubt she did it to deepen his 
ardor, and expects him back by every train. But, 
being honorable, he took the stipulation in good 
faith. He is determined to marry her next year, 
and will do so unless the girl is proved unworthy, 
or something intervenes. I cannot bear that the 
earl’s life should be wrecked, or that he should 
graft a low adventuress upon hismoble line. So 
I came to you, Edith, to tell you that you have a 
rival, and that Lad)’ Glenham would be happy if 
her son were to make you his wife. If you have any 
influence over him, if he has any affection for you, 
persuade him to give over his hair-brained folly 
and to consider his mother’s happiness.” 

“ I will. What is the woman’s name ?” 

“ Lady Glenham did not mention it. She was in 
great distress, as you can well imagine, and did not 
enter greatly into details. We understand each 
other, Edith. If you marry Lord Glenham I am 
willing to be on friendly terms with you, and shall 
make you my heiress. I will remain at Castle Cliff 
a day or two, as I shall call upon Lord Glenham 
to-morrow. And now, as the hour is growing late, 
I will dress for dinner. The butler informed me 
that my room was unoccupied, and I ordered a fire 
to be made in it, and sent my valet up to lay out my 
clothes. We will discuss Lord Glenham further 
after my visit to him.” 

The old lord bowed in stately fashion, and with- 
drew from the room. Lady Trevor was left alone 


7o 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


with her perplexities, pale and troubled, with a 
trembling shrinking from the future. 

“ What am I to do ?” she asked herself. “ I love 
Lord Glenham, and he loves an adventuress. Pul- 
ford has sworn to marry me, and I hate him. Yet 
I am in his power. He could crush me at a blow. 
I am more afraid of him than of death itself. What 
can I do ? I will not marry Pulford. I will marry 
Lord Glenham. Upon my marriage with the earl 
hangs love, Lord St. Leonards’ favor, everything I 
value in the world. Yet, if Pulford were but to be 
angered at me, he could plunge me into ruin and 
despair, into disgrace, and a felon’s cell. What 
answer shall I make to Pulford to-morrow ? I stand 
upon a frightful precipice, where a false step means 
death.” 

She brooded over her situation, and her shrinking 
from the future grew upon her into a deadly terror. 



CHAPTER VI. 

i 1 

ADRIFT. I 

When Cecil Rosse entered the pastor’s study upon 
the morning after his revelation to her of her his- 
tory, she was startled at seeing him still in his arm- 
chair, his head thrown back upon the cushions in an 
attitude of weariness. A stray sunbeam came 
through the window, resting lovingly upon his gray 
head. That peaceful smile was still on his thin and 
gentle face, but the kindly eyes that had ever beamed 
upon her in tenderest love were hidden by the droop- 
ing lids. She thought him sleeping. 

“ Uncle !” she said, softly, wondering if he had sat 
up all night, or had risen early and been overcome 
with drowsiness. 

The sweet voice met no response. 

“ Uncle, dear !” said Cecil, coming nearer to him. 

“ It is time for prayers ! Why, how still he seems ! 
How strange he looks, as if he had seen an angel 
before he slept ! Uncle, darling — ” 

She touched his cold and lifeless hand, and the 

[7i] 



72 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


chill contact sent a startled thrill, a curdling horror, 
through all her veins. In the next moment her 
wild cry went piercing through the house, bringing 
old Gretchen in haste from her domain. 

The villagers were called in and thronged the 
house. One grave, gray-bearded peasant, who 
served as the village leech, examined the pulse and 
tested the rigidity of the dead pastor’s limbs, and 
announced that he had been dead several hours. 
The smile on the face and the peaceful expression 
of all the features attested that his death had been 
painless, a transition from sleep and pleasant dreams 
on earth to a glorious awakening in heaven. 

The next three days were very dreary to young 
Cecil Rosse. The villagers came and went softly, 
careful not to disturb her. Old Gretchen was very 
tender to her. A new pastor, a young man, 
appeared in the village, and came once or twice to 
offer the ministrations of religion and to counsel her 
to resignation. But Cecil was not unresigned. 
After the first natural outburst of her grief, she 
rejoiced, rather than sorrowed, that her benefactor 
had rejoined his good wife, and that his death had 
been so nearly a translation. She would have 
regarded a morbid and passionate indulgence in 
grief as selfishness, and schooled herself to bear her 
sorrow bravely and unmurmuringly. 

Upon the third day, at the hour of sunset, Herr 
Brocken was buried in the little churchyard beside 
his wife. The funeral over, Cecil walked homeward 


A drift. 


73 


beside old Gretchen, both clad in sable garments. 
The old serving woman, whose eyes were red and 
swollen with tears, regarded her young mistress 
with frequent sighs. The lovely face of Cecil was 
very grave and sorrowful ; the sweet, sad eyes had 
in them a look of intense weariness ; but, more than 
all, there was an expression of utter hopelessness 
about the tender, drooping mouth — a strange 
despair — that singularly contrasted with her youth. 

They entered the empty house. Some one had 
opened doors and windows to the evening breeze 
and brought flowers to brighten and relieve the 
gloom. Cecil sat down in the little sitting-room, 
and old Gretchen removed her young mistress’s 
hat. 

“ You must not give way like this, Miss Cecil,” 
said the old servant, tenderly. “ The Herr Pastor 
would not like it. He is happy — think of that, my 
lamb.” 

“ I know it, Gretchen,” responded the girl, drearily. 
“ I would not have him back, but somehow my life 
seems to have come to an end with his. I cannot 
look forward to any future. And he loved me, 
Gretchen. I was as dear to him as if I had been the 
noblest-born lady in the land. No pride could ever 
have come between him and me.” 

Old Gretchen looked bewildered. 

“ You will make yourself sick if you go on like 
this, Miss Cecil,” she said. “ Here comes the new 


74 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


pastor and the chief villagers to console you in your 
sorrow.” 

Cecil moved nearer the window. The sunset 
light fell upon her hair, transforming it into a 
glory. Her red -brown eyes, with the golden glint 
in them, were turned towards the door. Her proud, 
sweet mouth quivered with ineffable sadness. Her 
superb young beauty and patrician air struck the 
visitors, who halted at the door for an instant, and 
removed their hats, entering her presence with low 
salutations. 

Old Gretchen placed chairs for them, and 
remained standing. 

“ We came,” said one of the men, the leader of 
the party, a skillful wood-carver and the principal 
layman in the church, “ to talk of business matters 
with you, Miss Rosse. It is impossible for you and 
Gretchen to remain in this lonely parsonage longer. 
The silence and gloom would be too oppressive to 
you.” 

Cecil bowed her head in assent. 

Herr Wilstein breathed a sigh of relief. 

“ The new pastor has already been appointed to 
this church,” he continued, with a glance at the 
minister, who, embarrassed, and full of pity for 
Cecil, awaited the conclusion of the visit with uneasi- 
ness. “ He has a large family and has been without 
a charge. For the sake of this flock bereaved of 
their shepherd, he is willing to come to Zorlitz at 
once !” 


Adrift. 


75 


“ We can leave the house to-morrow," said 
Gretchen, briefly. 

“ The new pastor is willing to buy your household 
goods at a fair valuation," pursued Herr Wilstein. 
“As your friend, Fraulein, and the friend of our 
dear dead pastor, I will arrange your business affairs 
for you, with your permission." 

“ I shall be grateful to you for your kindness," 
answered Cecil. “ I leave the business affairs in your 
hands." 

“ The new pastor will arrive with his family this 
week, and take possession of the parsonage," said 
Herr Wilstein. “ I desire to offer to you and 
Gretchen the shelter of my roof, so long as you may 
choose to honor us with your presence." 

“ And I," said the new pastor, a round-faced, nerv- 
ous little man, with spectacles, “ shall be glad to 
have you remain at the parsonage so long as may be 
agreeable to you, Miss Rosse. I speak for my wife 
as well as for myself." 

“ You are both very kind," said Cecil ; “ I thank 
you both, but I have barely considered my future. 
This change has been so sudden that I am quite 
bewildered. Still, I think that I shall leave Zorlitz !" 

“ Leave Zorlitz ?" echoed Herr Wilstein. 

“ I have no relatives here," said Cecil. “ I cannot 
earn my support here. My dear uncle educated me 
that I might be fitted to cope with the world. Per- 
haps he foresaw for me this hour. I cannot live 


76 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


without employment, and that employment I shall 
best find in some great city/’ 

Herr Wilstein shook his head disapprovingly. 

“ It will be like sending a lamb into a den of 
wolves !” he exclaimed, using the comparison that 
had been on the lips of the dying pastor. “You 
might stay here and learn to carve wood and teach 
song-birds, as our maidens do. You might — ” 

The new pastor shook his head gravely. He saw 
more plainly than the other the difference between 
Cecil Rosse and the peasant maidens of Zorlitz. 

“ You can no more keep her here, my friend,” he 
said, “ than you can keep an eagle in a wren’s nest. 
She must decide for herself, and may God direct her 
choice !” 

“ But the world is great and sinful. The maiden 
would be safe here from all harm. Herr Brocken’s 
niece should not go forth alone, unguarded — ” 

“ She won’t go alone !” interrupted Gretchen, 
stoutly, her rugged old face lighted by a glow of 
love. “ I nursed her in her childhood ; she has 
been the darling of my life ; she is friend and child 
to me ; and where she goes, I will go !” 

Cecil flashed an affectionate look into Gret- 
chen’s kindly face, and the matter was settled 
between them that whatever changes life held for 
Cecil, they were not to be separated. 

The visitors at length departed, but others came. 
Offers of a home for Cecil and her old servant were 
plentiful, but the girl gently and gratefully declined 


A drift . 


77 


them all. The simple peasants heard with regret 
her determination to leave Zorlitz. They would 
miss surely the bright presence that had gladdened 
their homes, the gentle nurse who had ministered to 
them in sickness, and the friend who had rejoiced 
in their joys. 

“ But I shall come back next year,” said Cecil, 
remembering Lord Glenham’s promise of return in 
a year. “ You will see me next summer.” 

When the visitors had all departed, and the shad- 
ows of the evening deepened, and doors and win- 
dows were shut, and a single candle lighted, old 
Gretchen re-entered the presence of her young 
mistress. 

“ This is to be our last night in the dear old 
house,” said the old woman, sighing. “It is hard 
to go.” 

“ The home is broken up ; the house is but the 
empty nest, Gretchen,” said Cecil. 

“ Where shall you go, my precious ? To Vienna ? 
To Munich ? Perhaps to Berlin ?” 

“ Gretchen, my dear uncle told me my history 
the night before his death. I am English born. If 
I am to earn my living, if I am to leave this dear 
home, where should I go but to my own people ?” 

“ To England ?” cried Gretchen, amazed at the 
audacity of the idea. 

“ To England, Gretchen !” 

“ But you know no one there except the two 


78 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


English gentlemen, Lord Glenham and Mr. Grafton. 
You are not going to seek them ?” 

The girl's face was dyed with blushes. 

“ Can you ask me that, Gretchen ?” she demanded. 
“ Lord Glenham is my lover. He will come for me 
to Zorlitz, next summer, and I shall be here then. 
Until then I shall not see him. I am going to 
England to work and to wait. I have seven hun- 
dred pounds which was sent to uncle for my sup- 
port by the man who brought me here. That is 
mine, and I shall not scruple to use it.” 

“There* will be the money from the sale of the 
furniture.” 

“ That must belong to you. There are fifteen 
hundred thalers in the bank also for you. Uncle 
told me that he had intended that sum as a pro- 
vision for your old age.” 

“ It should be yours, Miss Cecil.” 

“ No ; uncle left it to you as a token of regard for 
all your years of faithful service. Say no more, 
Gretchen, on that point. I cannot plan my future. 
I do not know what I shall do in England, but our 
plans will develop after we arrive there.” 

She arose and kissed the old woman, who 
embraced her fervently, and then she went up 
slowly to her own room. 

The next day the transfer of the household goods 
was made, and the money in payment therefor, 
through the kindness of thrifty Herr Wilstein, was 
paid into Gretchen’s hands. The day was spent by 


A drift. 


79 


mistress and maid in a complete round of visits 
through the village, and that night they slept at the 
house of Herr Wilstein. 

Upon the next morning they made their last 
adieux and departed from Zorlitz. 

“ I hope,” muttered old Gretchen, looking back 
at the forest village through her tears, “ that we ain’t 
rushing straight into trouble ! And yet a creep- 
ing feeling comes over me that there are dark days 
ahead ! I wish I could read the future !” 





CHAPTER VII. 
lady trevor’s resolve. 

Lord St. Leonards presented himself at the 
dining table punctually at half-past seven, at 
which hour dinner was served. His distinguished 
appearance, his immense wealth, his lofty position 
in society, rendered him the lion of the occasion. 
His arrival at Castle Cliff was a source of great 
conjecture to Lady Trevor’s guests. Her lady- 
ship’s long estrangement from her grandfather 
was well known in society, and his unlooked-for 
visit was generally interpreted as a sign of recon- 
ciliation between the pair. He made himself 
agreeable to the guests, was witty and brilliant, 
although often caustic in his speeches, but upon the 
return to the drawing-room he pleaded fatigue and 
withdrew to his private apartments. 

Lady Trevor was congratulated by her friends 
upon her apparent restoration to the marquis’ 
favor, and she replied gayly as if the matter were 
quite settled. Scarcely a person present but envied 
[80] 



Lady Trevor s Resolve. 


81 


her. Still young, handsome, immensely rich, a 
widow with many suitors, she seemed now to stand 
in the very flow of fortune’s favors. With the 
marquis’ unentailed property added to that ~ she 
already possessed, she would be the richest woman 
in England. 

She appeared to appreciate her good fortune, was 
unusually gay and full of laughter, but beneath that 
surface-brightness beat a heart as heavy as lead, a 
heart torn with conflicting and terrible emotions. 

A sword more keen than that of Damocles seemed 
suspended above her head. A deadly terror, a 
sickening apprehension, held her in thrall. All 
the good things of life, all that she held most dear 
and precious, were just within her grasp or held 
alluringly before her eyes, yet her possession of them 
was menaced ; a great peril yawned before her ; 
ruin, ignominy, and a felon’s doom stared her in 
the face. 

She was at the mercy of a man who knew no pity ; 
she could purchase safety only by surrendering her 
freedom and with it all dreams of love, pride, and 
ambition, and becoming the wife of a man whom 
now she loathed and hated. • 

Mr. Pulford saw beneath her mask of gayety the 
conflict going on within her. He smiled grimly in 
the covert of his sandy beard, and his pale grey eyes 
gleamed with prospective triumph, and he thought 
in his heart : 

** She will yield. What else can she do ? She is 


82 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


in my power and will never dare defy me. She is 
a coward, and conscious guilt makes her weak. She 
will fume and fret, struggle a little, and then, with 
an ill-grace, most likely, announce her submission. 
By Jove, I’m a lucky fellow ! I shall step into the 
shoes of my late employer, shall marry Sir Albert’s 
widow, and share in the possession of the great 
fortune of the deceased Lady Ravendale. I also 
shall become the grandson-in-law of one of the 
proudest peers of England. I shall be master of 
my lady’s estates, and finally proprietor of Lord St. 
Leonards’ ancestral domains ! I shall become the 
friend and companion of peers. More, I may 
become a peer myself. With all my money and 
influence, having married the marquis’ grand- 
daughter, why may I not aspire to a peerage ? But 
for Lord Glenham, I might step into the St. 
Leonards’ succession. All these things will arrange 
themselves after my marriage, which must be urged 
forward with all speed. I intend to enter upon the 
London season at my house in town with my bride, 
in the character of a man of society !” 

He regarded Lady Trevor with a critical gaze, as 
if she were already. his possession. Her brunette 
face could not be termed beautiful, applying the 
word in its highest sense. It lacked the rare nobil- 
ity, the exquisite radiance, the purity of expression 
that glorified the perfect features of .young Cecil 
Rosse. It was the face of a woman of the world, 
handsome, sensuous, with hard, black eyes and rosy 


Lady Trevor s Resolve. 


83 


lips and flushed cheeks, with the smile of a siren 
and an air of well-bred repose, and Mr. Pulford’s 
eyes looked approvingly upon it. He could be 
proud of her as his wife. Her appearance would 
reflect credit upon him and make him envied by 
the men whose companionship he intended to secure 
for himself in the new life opening before him. 

“ A brunette is my particular admiration,” he 
said to himself. “ I always thought Lady Trevor 
uncommonly handsome. What control she has over 
herself ! She’s laughing now, yet I, and I alone, 
know that at heart she is in a mood to gnash her 
teeth and tear her hair. Well, fret it out, my lady. 
By to-morrow night I may find you sullen enough, 
but I’ll warrant you’ll be docile !” 

Lady Trevor avoided her suitor throughout the 
evening. At eleven o’clock the party separated, the 
members proceeding to their various rooms. Mr. 
Pulford departed with the rest, taking up his bed- 
room candle from the hall- table, and smilingly 
ascending the great stair. Lady Trevor was left 
alone in the grand and stately drawing-room, and 
she paced to and fro, her smiles all vanished, 
her eyes glittering, her mouth set in a hard, rigid 
line. 

“ What shall I do ?” she asked herself, in a wild 
despair. “ What can I do ?” 

No light dawned upon her during the next half 
hour. She kept up her walk, a hunted look grow- 


8 4 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


ing in her eyes, and a desperate resolve gathering 
strength within her heart. 

The butler appeared, at length, fancying that her 
ladyship had retired, and he started back at the 
lurid light in the eyes she turned towards him, at 
the haggard look on her features. 

“ I beg pardon, my lady,” he exclaimed, “ but 
I fancied you gone, and I came to blow out the 
lights J” 

“ Very well,” responded Lady Trevor. “ I was 
just going to my room !” 

She passed him with stately tread, crossed the 
hall, and ascended the stair to her own apartment. 

A fire of pine knots and cones was blazing on the 
hearth of her sitting-room. A couple of wax-can- 
dles, in silver sconces, were lighted upon the mantel- 
piece. The curtains were drawn, and the oriel 
window hidden from view. Lady Trevor flung 
herself in an arm-chair and stretched out her hands 
to the blaze. The night was wet and chilly, and she 
shivered as if the cold were that of mid-winter. 

Her maid, a sallow-skinned Frenchwoman, with 
gliding movements and a somewhat secretive coun- 
tenance, entered from the adjoining apartment. 
The woman had been in Lady Trevor’s employ for 
some years, and although she knew nothing of her 
mistress’ secrets, yet the two being not unlike in 
disposition, they were upon unusually good terms 
with each other, considering the great difference in 
station between them. 


Lady Trevor's Resolve. 


85 


Lady Trevor submitted to the ministrations of 
her attendant, exchanged her dinner-dress for a 
scarlet cashmere dressing-gown, trimmed with 
swan’s down, permitted her long, black hair to be 
brushed and simply arranged for the night, and then 
said : 

“ That will do, Cerise. I shall want nothing 
more. You may go to bed.” 

“ Madame looks ill,” said the Frenchwoman. 
“ Shall I not remain — ” 

“ No, no,” said Lady Trevor, impatiently. “ I want 
nothing more to-night. You may go.” 

The maid obeyed, taking her departure. 

Then the lady walked to her window, drew her 
curtains, and looked out into the wet and starless 
night. All was blackness, relieved only by the 
gleam of light from the lantern at the mast-head of 
the yacht in the harbor below. She turned from the 
contemplation of that outer darkness and sat down 
again by the fire. 

“ I am in the power of this man Pulford,” she said 
to herself, her face growing harder, her eyes more 
desperate. “ I cannot see my way out of this dan- 
ger. I must try to buy him off, even if I have to 
pay him half I have. If he refuses money I must 
temporize. I must gain time. If he push me to the 
wall, I will turn upon him like a tigress, and rend 
him in pieces ! One thing I swear— I will never 
marry him !” 

She drew her breath hard, and her features glowed 


86 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


with a baleful light that indicated the warring evil 
passions within her. 

“ I must secure Lord Glenham during our stay in 
Scotland,” she mused. “ If I can but induce him 
to speak some words of interest and admiration, if I 
can but obtain the faintest pretext, I’ll spring a 
trap upon him by pretending to misunderstand 
him, and will force him into an engagement of 
marriage. He liked me — 1 know he did. He has 
tried to reconcile my grandfather to me. I think I 
might have won him but for this foreign entangle- 
ment. Who is this adventuress whom he desires to 
marry ? I must hear the whole story, and it will go 
hard if my woman’s wit and woman’s wiles do not 
succeed in securing him to me ! It’s a great thing 
in my favor that both my grandfather and his 
mother desire him to marry me. I have a difficult 
double task before me, to win a man who does not 
love me, but does love another woman, and to rid 
myself of Pulford, a dangerous and powerful enemy, 
whom I fear and loathe !’* 

She sat long in the ruddy light of the flaming fire, 
pondering upon these problems. The pine-knots 
burned to ashes and the heat became slowly dissi- 
pated, yielding to chill and damp, and still she sat 
there, dark and desperate, with gleaming eyes star- 
ing straight into the shadows of the far corners, and 
wicked thoughts deepening and strengthening in a 
wicked and horrible resolve. 

The little Sevres clock on the mantelpiece chim- 


Lady Trevor s Resolve. 


87 


ing the hour of two aroused her at last from her 
reverie. She arose, pallid and shuddering, casting 
fearing glances over her shoulders. 

“ If I am forced to it,” she whispered, “ I shall 
defend myself at all hazards. Horace Pulford little 
knows with whom he has to deal.” 

She undressed herself and crept into her bed in 
the adjoining chamber, but it was a long time before 
she could compose herself to sleep. Yet when 
Cerise entered the room at a late hour on the follow- 
ing morning, her mistress was slumbering as tran- 
quilly as a little child, with no token of a guilty 
conscience on her placid face, or in her careless 
attitude. 

At ten o’clock Lady Trevor arose and dressed for 
breakfast. She descended to the dining-room. The 
gentlemen had breakfasted early and gone out upon 
a shooting expedition, the day being fine. The 
ladies were lounging about the table, perfect free- 
dom to rise early or late, and breakfast at any hour 
that might be preferred, being the law Lady Trevor 
had established at Castle Cliff during her reign 
over it. 

Lord St. Leonards had breakfasted in his own 
room, and had not yet made his appearance, as 
Lady Trevor ascertained by inquiry. She took her 
place at the table, showing no trace of the cares 
that lay heavy upon her, and enacted the part of 
hostess with her usual ease and grace. 

After breakfast two of the ladies went out upon 


88 


Edith Trevor's Secret . 


the rocks, sketch-books in hand. Others retired to 
the library, or set out for a “ constitutional” in the 
woods or along the coast. Lady Trevor summoned 
her cook, a chef brought from her own .house, to a 
private conference, and having arranged the menu 
for the dinner, considered her housekeeping duties 
quite fulfilled, and sauntered to the morning-room. 

There was a fire here in the great chimney-place. 
The castle having been closed since the previous 
year, and the principal rooms unoccupied, it was 
deemed safe to have fires in all the rooms to dispel 
the lingering damp and chill, and this practice was 
found decidedly pleasant. Lord St. Leonards was 
the sole occupant of the room at the moment of 
Lady Trevor’s entrance, and he was standing before 
the hearth, grave, stern and haughty, his steel blue 
eyes glittering coldly under his frost-white brow, 
his attitude expressing something of desolation and 
stern self-repression. He looked as unapproachable 
as a Sphinx, yet Lady Trevor, feigning affection for 
interest’s sake, rushed towards him, full of anima- 
tion, her hands outstretched, with an affectation of 
girlishness which she found frequently effective. 

“ Good-morning, dear grandfather !” she ex- 
claimed. “ I hope you rested well.” 

“ Very well, thanks,” responded the marquis, 
coldly. “ I always rest well. I shall ride over to 
Glenham Lodge this morning to see the earl, but I 
had a few words to say to you first. Did I tell you 


Lady Trevor s Resolve . 


89 


last evening that Lady Glenham is intending to 
visit her son at the Lodge ?" 

“ You did not mention it, grandfather." 

“ I thought not. She expected to arrive there, 
accompanied by one or two lady friends, this even- 
ing, It will be well for you to call upon her to- 
morrow. Her stay will be brief, not over a week." 

“ I will call to-morrow, grandfather. Shall you 
speak to-day to the earl about this foreign adven- 
turess with whom he has fallen in love ?" 

“ Certainly. The countess assures me that I have 
great influence over her son, and has begged me to 
exert it in the attempt to wean him from this foreign 
woman. I scarcely needed her urging. I love 
Gordon almost as if he were my son, and I cannot 
bear that his life should be wrecked as my son’s 
was wrecked. I shall reason with him, plead with 
him — yet where his mother has failed how can I 
hope to succeed ?" 

“ Shall you speak to him about me ?" asked Lady 
Trevor, looking down at the fire. 

“ I do not quite know. Lady Glenham desired 
me to suggest — Edith, Gordon is the noblest fellow 
alive. I don’t think you worthy of him — " 

“ You are complimentary, sir." 

“ I am truthful," said the marquis, grimly. “ You 
were a disobedient daughter, an unfaithful friend. 
I am haunted by doubts oi you that I scarcely dare 
own to myself. I believe that but for my daughter- 
in-law’s unfortunate will, your step-sister might 


9 o 


Edith Trevor's Secret. 


have been alive to-day. Perhaps I wrong you. 
God grant it may be so. It does not seem credible 
that one of my blood can be a murderess !” 

Lady Trevor, with a livid pallor, drew angrily 
away from him. 

“ How can you speak so to me ?” she demanded. 
“ I am a defenceless woman and your grandchild, 
therefore at your mercy. But it does not seem 
to me manly to strike at one so helpless, to accuse 
me of awful crimes. My step-mother trusted me. 
I am not so base as to betray a trust. The child 
was my step-sister, a baby of two or three years, a 
little, winning creature who loved me. And you 
think I could kill her ! Great heaven ! how shall I 
defend myself from such a hideous charge ?” 

She twisted her hands together as in an agony of 
grief. 

“Perhaps I have wronged you, Edith,” said the 
marquis, somewhat softened. “ God grant it may be 
so. Yet it rankles in me that you should have kept 
the child from me so long after the mother’s 
death — ” 

“ The child was ill. I knew you worshiped her, 
and I could not take her to you puny and ailing.” 

“ She was ill when you left Rome with her after 
her mother’s death ?” 

Lady Trevor gave quick assent. 

“ But I have been to Rome lately, to the lodgings 
my son and his wife occupied,” said the marquis, 
slowly. “ I saw the old landlady with whom they 


Lady Trevor s Resolve. 


9 1 


lodged, and she told me that the child was well and 
healthy.” 

Lady Trevor trembled and looked scared. 

“ It is so long since — nearly fifteen years — that 
she forgets,” she muttered. “ Surely you wouldn’t 
take an Italian landlady’s word against mine ? 
Shall I swear that the child was ill when her mother 
died ? Shall I swear that I never harmed one hair 
of her little head ? You have said to me yourself 
that the physician declared her disease marasmus. 
He had no suspicions of foul play. The post-mortem 
examination revealed no ground for these doubts 
and accusations of me.” 

“ No, they did not. There was disease. The 
doctor assured me that she had not been poisoned,” 
acknowledged the marquis. “ But the little, wan, 
rickety body that was brought home to me seemed 
so unlike the bonny, beautiful child I loved, that I 
have always thought that she must be fed on baleful 
drugs. Your husband, Sir Albert Trevor, might 
have done this without your knowledge. He was a 
scoundrel and a villain.” 

“ He is dead and cannot defend himself, but with 
all his faults he could not have done what you sur- 
mise. He was a coward ; he would not have dared 
commit a murder. Grandfather, you have wronged 
us both — ” 

“ Perhaps so. Yet you were poor, and little 
Alba’s death made you rich. I may be pardoned, 
knowing the stock you sprang from, and knowing 


9 2 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


so well your husband’s reputation, if I have feared 
the worst. I will try to believe your denials of 
guilt. I will try to believe you good and honorable, 
though still my mind misgives me. Yet how can a- 
woman, and that woman 'the daughter of my noble 
son, be guilty of a horrible crime ? We will say no 
more, Edith. 1 will endeavor to have faith in you.” 

“ And you will not believe me unworthy of Lord 
Glenham ?” asked Lady Trevor. “ Grandfather, I 
will own to you that after my early infatuation for 
Sir Albert passed away, I grew indifferent to him. 

I never really loved him. Lord Glenham has been 
very kind to me, for your sake, of course, yet I 
fancied that he was growing to like me. And so I 
— I grew to like him !” 

“ I understand. If anything I can do, in a deli- 
cate way, can further your wishes, I will remember. 
And now, Edith, I must go. My horse and groom 
are waiting.” 

He made no offer to caress her. He exhibited no 
sign of affection, but coolly drew on his riding gloves 
while she watched him intently, and then, with a 
courtly bow, he took his departure. 

Lady Trevor watched him from the window as he 
rode away from the castle, followed by his groom. 

“ How straight he sits his saddle !” she thought. 

“ How much vigor and life he has, yet he is seventy- 
five years old. He does not look fifty-five. He is 
good for twenty years yet. But, of course, accidents 
may happen — he may die of fever — and his great 


Lady Trevor's Resolve. 


93 


estate be distributed within a year. I begin to 
stand some chance of sharing his inheritance. He 
doubts me still, I see, yet imagines he wrongs me by 
the doubt. He will use his best influence in my 
behalf with Lord Glenham, and I am persuaded 
that the earl will hear to reason. But if I win him, 
how am I to dispose of Pulford ? If I am pushed 
to the wall,” and she set her lips in a hard, tense 
line, and her eyes gleamed, “ I resolve anew, what I 
resolved last night, I shall defend myself at all 
hazards /’ 



CHAPTER VIII. 

TREACHERY. 

Glenham Lodge, situated about five miles distant 
from Castle Cliff, is a picturesque stone house of 
considerable dimensions, with peaked roofs and 
clustering chimneys, throned upon a mountain- top, 
looking perched in mid-air, and commanding a 
magnificent stretch of scenery, mountains, valleys, 
and distant sea, in one wide stretch of vision. 

It is a veritable eagle’s eyrie, an actual “ castle in 
the air,” rudely caressed by the fierce Highland 
winds sweeping in from the sea, and is more often 
known as Breezy Lodge than by the name of it 
owner. 

Upon the morning on which the old Marquis of 
St. Leonards set out to ride to Breezy Lodge, but at 
a far earlier hour, the young Earl of Glenham sat 
at the breakfast table with his guests. 

The entire party were in shooting costume with 
the exception of Maldred Crafton. They were all in 
good spirits, the weather being fine, and anticipated 
a fine day’s sport. 

[ 94 ] 


Treachery. 


95 


The Highland gillies, or servants, with dogs and 
guns, were outside, in readiness for a start. 

The young gentlemen hurried through their 
breakfast and disappeared from the room. The 
earl, their host, was about to follow them when 
Maldred Crafton detained him. 

“ Give me a few minutes, Glenham,” he said, his 
swarthy face wearing a slightly embarrassed 
expression. “ I have something particular to say to 
you.” 

“ Well, what is it ?” asked the earl, pleasantly. 
“You are not in shooting dress? Are you not 
going out ?” 

“ I think not. The fact is, Glenham, my letter 
this morning contains news that necessitates my 
return to London. I shall be obliged to run up to 
town again for a few days.” 

The young lord settled back in his chair, not con- 
cealing his surprise. 

In the week that had passed since his departure 
from Zorlitz he had grown graver, and there was a 
care-worn expression at times in his eyes that indi- 
cated a heart not quite at rest. 

He loved Cecil Rosse with all the ardor of a pas- 
sionate soul. He had never loved before, and to 
this love was given all the reserved strength of his 
great and powerful nature. He had hastened back 
to England and sought an interview with his 
mother ; but she had heard his story with alarm, 
had reasoned and expostulated with him, and, in 


9 6 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


her pride and affection for her son, had denounced 
Cecil as an adventuress. The two who had been 
all in all to each other theretofore had parted in 
coldness, the earl declaring that nothing could 
shake his resolution to marry Miss Rosse, provided 
Miss Rosse would accept him. The son had then 
set out in a leisurely manner for the Scottish High- 
lands, and the countess had written in haste to 
Lord St. Leonards at Vichy, begging him to use 
his influence with her son to prevent his intended 
disastrous alliance. 

Lord Glenham’s grand, blond beauty contrasted 
singularly with the sinister countenance of his 
chosen friend. His keen blue eyes searched the 
swarthy features of Crafton, who moved uneasily, 
conscious of acting a part upon this occasion, and 
guiltily apprehensive of discovery. 

“ I am sorry to hear that you must go back when 
you have just arrived, old fellow,” said the young 
lord. “ Why don’t you write, telegraph, or send a 
messenger, anything rather than go ? The shooting 
will be fine, and to tell you the truth, Crafton, I am 
not in a jovial mood, and depend on you to help 
me entertain my guests.” 

“Do not urge me. My business concerns my 
country-place,” lied Crafton. “ It’s a business mat- 
ter, you see, Glenham. I won’t bore you with it ; 
but the fact is, my return to town will make a differ- 
ence of a hundred pounds a year to me. You are 
rich, and that sum is not worthy your consideration ; 


Treachery . 


97 


but it is quite a matter of moment to me who have 
only six hundred a year !” 

The earl’s reply was prevented by the entrance of 
a servant with a telegram. 

“ From my mother,” said the young lord, perusing 
it when they were once more alone. “ It has been 
forwarded by mounted messenger from Inverness. 
She is coming here with a couple of friends and will 
arrive to-night !” 

“She repents her opposition to your wishes, Glen- 
liam,” said Crafton, unable to conceal his bitterness, 
“ and is coming to announce her readiness to set out 
for Germany post-haste.” 

“ You don’t know my mother,” declared the earl, 
with a sigh. “ She is coming to renew her argu- 
ments against my desired marriage with Miss Rosse. 
I cannot convince her that Cecil is not an adven- 
turess, and she will not consent to go and see her. I 
am more sorry than before that you must go away 
just at this time, Crafton. You could help convince 
my mother of her mistake. She considers me 
blinded by passion. Now if you, who cannot be 
suspected of being Miss Rosse’s lover, were to assure 
my mother that Cecil is a lady, pure and lovely, and 
worthy my mother’s love and respect, she might be 
induced to visit Germany to see her.” 

Crafton turned his head aside and made a grim- 
ace. He, who was also a lover of Cecil Rosse, found 
Lord Glenham’s words particularly distasteful. 

“ I cannot hope to influence Lady Glenham’s 


9 3 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


decision,*' he said. “ What she will not do for the 
son whom she adores, she won’t do for a man she 
dislikes. Don’t protest, Glenham. You know that 
the countess is not fond of me, and she is not likely 
to consider my opinion of any great value. But to 
return to Miss Rosse. Will your lady mother’s 
opposition change your plans in regard to her ? 
Shall you marry Miss Rosse if Lady Glenham con- 
tinues her opposition ?” 

“ 1 have not given up hope of obtaining my 
mother’s consent. If Miss Rosse will honor me by 
becoming my wife I should wish that my mother 
should become her mother also, and give her the 
love she so richly merits,” declared the young lord, 
gravely. “ I reverence my dear mother, and would 
not willingly offend her. But I cannot forget that 
I am eight-and-twenty — old enough to choose for 
myself, and that my happiness for life is involved. 
I cannot consent to be guided in a matter of the 
most vital importance to me by a mere whim — a 
whim the more unreasonable because my mother 
does not wish to be convinced of her injustice.” 

“ If you feel like that, why don’t you rush back to 
Germany and marry the girl off-hand ?” 

“ Because I gave to her guardian my word of 
honor that I would not seek to marry Miss Rosse 
under a year. And because, also, I do not like to 
quarrel with my mother. By waiting patiently a 
little I may be able to win my mother to consent to 
see Miss Rosse, and if she once sees her she will 


Treachery . 


99 


love her. Cecil is very young, Crafton, yet I am 
almost sure that she loves me. The year will soon 
pass, and I shall hasten to her and ask her to become 
my wife,” and the earl’s fair and splendid face was 
all alight. “ I have given my word, and I must keep 
it, yet I intend to write to Herr Brocken and ask 
permission to come to Zorlitz at Christmas. He 
cannot refuse me.” 

Crafton’s face darkened, and he moved his chair 
impatiently. 

“ Well,” he said, trying to speak carelessly, “ in 
the course of a year you’ll be able to bring Lady 
Glenham around to your opinion. She will give in 
within six months, mark my words. She loves you 
too much to hold out against you.” 

“ You don’t know her pride,” again affirmed the 
young lord. ‘‘She has made great plans for my 
future, and desires for me a brilliant marriage, in 
the worldly sense of the word. If she would only 
consent to see Cecil, I would have no fears, but she 
will not see her. So, you abandon me when I need 
you most, Crafton ? When will you return ?” 

“ Next week. I have ordered a horse from your 
stables to take me on my journey towards civili- 
zation. He’ll be sent back from some point upon 
my route to-morrow. Don’t let me detain you 
longer, Glenham. The fellows are growing impa- 
tient !” 

They exchanged a few further words, shook 
hands, and parted, Crafton leisurely making his way 


TOO 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


to his own room in high good humor, and the earl, 
after giving orders to have certain rooms warmed 
and aired and put in readiness for the expected 
ladies, joining his guests and departing upon his 
day’s expedition. 

Crafton gazed out after them with exulting eyes. 

“ Glenham’s an unsuspicious fellow,” he mut- 
tered. “ I wonder what he’d say if he knew all the 
truth — that I am also Miss Rosse’s lover, and that I 
have sworn that she shall be mine ? I wonder what 
he’d say if he knew that this business upon which 
I’m going is not what I pretended, that I shan’t stop 
in London, but that I will go on to Zorlitz and to 
the bewitching beauty of the Black Forest ? I 
came up here with him to make sure that he was 
safely disposed of for the month. Now I shall 
hasten to Germany, secure in his absence, and it 
will be strange if the lover who is present cannot 
cut out the absent one ! A few pretty gifts, some 
pretty flatteries, and I shall win the prize !” 

He packed a hand-bag rapidly with as few neces- 
sities as possible, and returned to the dining-room, 
where he waited until his horse was brought around. 

Then he mounted and set out upon his journey 
through the wild and rugged Highland scenery. 

A little after midday he halted at a solitary farm- 
house, procured a dinner and exchanged his horse, 
making arrangements for its return, as also for the 
return of the one he had brought from Breezy 
Lodge. 


Treachery . 


IOI 


About the middle of the afternoon, he passed a 
heavy traveling-carriage drawn by four horses. 
There were three ladies within, reclining wearily 
among the cushions, and as he dashed past he 
caught a glimpse of a noble face framed in by gray 
hair, which face he recognized as that of the Count- 
ess of Glenham. 

The ladies looked out of the coach-window, 
aroused by the unusual event of meeting a horse- 
man, and Crafton was tempted to turn back and 
address them. 

“ I might find opportunity to say a word or two 
to Lady Glenham to strengthen her dislike of Miss 
Rosse,” he thought, “ but I can wait. It will be 
better to do that when there are no listeners. I 
wonder if she knew me ?” 

He dashed over a level stretch of road of brief 
extent, new schemes of treachery filling his mind. 

That night he slept at a little hamlet. By the 
next noon he arrived at Inverness. 

He took the first mail-train to the southward. 
On arriving in London the next day he made no 
stay, but pushed on for the Continent. 

“ Now for Zorlitz !” he said to himself, with 
sinister delight, “ and for Miss Rosse ! While Lord 
Glenham keeps his promise to the old pastor and 
tries to reconcile his lady-mother to his expected 
marriage, I will step in and win the game !” 



CHAPTER IX. 

THE BETROTHAL. 

The visit of Lord St. Leonards to Glenham Lodge 
was fruitless. As he drew rein before the door of 
the picturesque mountain-house, after a hard ride 
up the steep and rugged road, he was informed by a 
Highland gillie, in kilt and cap, that the earl had 
gone out upon a shooting expedition, and that he 
would not return until evening. Leaving his card, 
the marquis turned about and began his return to 
Castle Cliff, saying to himself : 

“ I shall have to remain another day, in any case, 
in order to see the countess, so I am not sorry to 
miss Glenham this morning. I dread the interview. 
How am I to convince an ardent young lover that 
the lady he loves is an adventuress ? If his mother 
and I join forces and attack him together, we shall 
be more likely to succeed.” 

He returned to Castle Cliff, where Lady Trevor 
anxiously awaited him. As he crossed the hall, she 
opened the door of the morning-room and looked 
[ 102 ] 



The BethrothaL 


103 


out upon him. She was quick to read the expres- 
sion of his face, and her own countenance fell. 

“ Glenham was out shooting,” remarked the old 
lord, cheerfully, and passed on, ascending the stair. 

Lady Trevor followed him, and went on to her 
boudoir, where she locked the door and spent some 
time in meditating upon the situation of her affairs. 

In spite of the perils menacing her, her spirits rose, 
as did her courage. She believed that she was 
mistress of the situation, that she could control her 
enemy, and gain the accomplishment of her dearest 
wishes. 

“ Now that Lady Glenham and Lord St. Leonards 
conspire to bring about my marriage with the earl,” 
she said to herself, “ I stand an excellent chance of 
becoming his wife. I am quite sure, if I manage 
well, that I shall leave Castle Cliff, at the end of the 
month, as his betrothed wife ! But how am I to 
keep Mr. Pulford quiet ?” 

She bestowed much serious thought upon this 
question, but made no modification of the plan which 
she had so carefully elaborated upon the previous 
evening. 

To Mr. Pulford’s surprise, Lady Trevor was in 
excellent spirits at luncheon, presiding at the table 
with grace and ease, and betraying not the faintest 
sign of secret care or trouble. 

“ Is that unconcern all feigned ?” he asked him- 
self ; “ or does she think that my claims can be set 
side ? We shall soon see.” 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


164 


The larger number of the gentlemen of the party 
had gone out shooting. Lady Trevor proposed, 
immediately after luncheon, that those who remained 
should, with the ladies, go upon a sailing excursion 
in the yacht. The plan met with general approval, 
and half an hour later the ladies, in yachting cos- 
tumes of blue flannel ornamented with gold braid, 
were escorted by Mr. Pulford and another gentle- 
man down the rocky cliff to the sea. A boat had 
been sent ashore from the yacht to receive them, 
and they were transported to the deck of the larger 
vessel, which spread her sails and put out to sea. 

Lord St. Leonards did not join the excursion, pre- 
ferring to rest in his own room. 

Mr. Pulford had expected to receive the answer 
of Lady Trevor to his suit before evening, but she 
carefully avoided him while on the yacht, and if she 
had not done so he would not have there addressed 
her on the subject that occupied his mind. 

The wind was strong, blowing from the eastward. 
An hour’s run took them nearly out of sight of 
Castle Cliff. Then the yacht put about, but the 
wind was in her teeth, and the remainder of the 
afternoon was spent in beating, approaching the 
shore by degrees. 

It was six o’clock and nearly dark when the 
vessel crept into her harbor. A fine rain was fall- 
ing, and the air was chilly. The castle lights 
gleamed through the wet gloom like fire-flies. The 


The Betrothal. 


105 


party, wet and cold, landed on the slippery rocks 
and hastened up the cliff. 

In the great hall of the castle, where a host of 
retainers had assembled in feudal times, in the 
great chimney-place, a pine-wood fire was blazing, 
its ruddy glow reflected against the dusky wain- 
scoting of the walls and the polished black oak floor. 
The excursionists gathered around it and made 
merry for a little time, and then withdrew to their 
various rooms to dress for dinner. 

Lady Trevor vanished with the guests, and Mr. 
Pulford departed to his chamber, content to bide his 
time. 

At dinner Lady Trevor, in a delightful toilet, was 
in fine spirits, as she had been at the preceding 
meal. She avoided Mr. Pulford throughout the 
evening, without seeming to do so. Lord St. Leo- 
nards dined with his granddaughter and her guests, 
but immediately afterward returned to his own 
apartment. Music and conversation filled the 
next few hours. Those gentlemen who had gone 
out shooting had met with fine success, and rehearsed 
their exploits with satisfaction. At eleven o’clock 
the guests retired and Lady Trevor was left alone. 

She stood before the hearth a few moments in the 
warm, well-lighted room, and was then about to 
retire also, when Mr. Pulford reappeared. His 
society smile still lingered on his face, but his eyes 
were keen and eager in their scrutiny, and there was 


o6 


Edith Trevor's Secret. 


an air of expectant triumph about him that Lady 
Trevor did not fail to observe. 

“ I have looked forward to this hour since yester- 
day,” he said. “ At last we are alone together, 
and I am to receive your answer to my suit. Be 
seated, Lady Edith.” 

He placed a chair for her before the hearth and 
she sank languidly upon its silken cushions. He 
leaned against the mantelpiece and contemplated 
her. The ruddy glow of the fire lighted up her 
features, making her look unusually handsome. 
Her jewels, of which she wore a profusion, gleamed 
and glowed and sparkled like drops of imprisoned 
fire. Mr. Pulford smiled complacently. He waited 
a full minute for her to speak, and then said : 

“ It is scarcely necessary for me to recall to you 
my declarations of yesterday, Edith. I am here to 
receive your answer to my demand for your hand in 
marriage.” 

“ That demand,” responded Lady Trevor, calmly, 
concealing her irritation at his familiarity of address, 
“ I need not say was a complete surprise to me, 
Mr. Pulford. More, it was an actual shock. I had 
looked upon you as the faithful friend of Sir Albert 
and myself, as my paid business agent, and I should 
as soon have dreamed of marrying my coachman — ” 

Mr. Pulford’s florid countenance flushed a sullen, 
angry red. 

“ Take care !” he cried, warningly. “ You will do 
well to remember that I am a gentleman by birth 


The Betrothal. 


107 


and breeding, that I am here as your guest, the 
equal of yourself and your other guests, and that I 
shall resent an insult, even if it comes from you !” 

Lady Trevor bowed, smiling. 

“ I shall remember,” she replied. “ I merely 
wished you to understand how completely I was 
surprised by your proposal of marriage. I have 
considered the matter thoroughly, and have decided 
to be frank with you. I had planned another mar- 
riage for myself — ” 

“ I know. You desired to marry Lord Glenham ?” 

“ A marriage with Lord Glenham would be more 
suitable for me,” acknowledged Lady Trevor, com- 
posedly. “ He has rank, wealth, position to match 
my own, whereas everyone would wonder if I were 
to marry you. My grandfather, who is becoming 
reconciled to me after our long estrangement, 
especially desires me to marry his heir. Now, I 
will make terms with you to secure my continued 
freedom. I will pay you an annuity of five thous- 
and pounds — *’ 

Mr. Pulford snapped his fingers. 

“ I will give you a fine estate — ” 

“ I want everything, not a portion,” interrupted 
Mr. Pulford, frankly. “ I want you, Lady Trevor, 
for my wife. I want all your wealth in present 
and in the future. You understand ? I will make 
no terms whatever. I demand your unconditional 
surrender.” 


o8 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


Lady Trevor set her teeth together firmly, so 
that her lips were compressed and bloodless. 

“ I gave you credit for more sense than you are 
now displaying,” said Mr. Pulford. “You do not 
seem to realize how completely you are in my 
power. Do you need to be reminded that I hold a 
secret of yours, the revelation of which will send you 
to a felon’s cell ?” 

“ Hush ! Don’t speak so loud.” 

“ Shall I rehearse to you the particulars of a 
crime committed by you fourteen years ago ?” con- 
tinued Mr. Pulford, grimly. “ Refuse me, madam, 
and instead of allowing you to become the bride 
of Lord Glenham, I’ll send you to Newgate to 
stand your trial for a terrible crime. I’ll strip 
you of your honor, of your great wealth you 
schemed to gain — ” 

“ Hush !” interrupted Lady Trevor, looking nerv- * 
ously over her shoulder toward the door. “ Why 
blame me for the crime Sir Albert planned — ” 

“ And which you helped him execute. I’ll prove 
you an unnatural sister, a monster of hypocrisy, 
deceit and wickedness, and justice will be meted 
out to you. In place of your dainty .silken garb, 
you’ll wear the prison uniform. In place of your 
spacious chambers and soft bed and skilled attend- 
ance, you’ll have a narrow cell, hard toil, igno- 
miny — ” 

“Oh, stop, stop ! You need no longer threaten 
me — ” 


The Betrothal ' 


109 


“ You consent to marry me ?” 

“ Since I am forced to do so.” 

Perhaps it was as well for Mr. Pulford’s peace of 
mind that he could not see the baleful gleam in 
Lady Trevor’s eyes, at that moment shaded by her 
hand, or the terrible expression that writhed about 
her mouth. 

“ We are betrothed, then, Edith ?” he exclaimed, 
in a tone of satisfaction. “ You will exchange the 
name of Lady Trevor for that of Lady Edith Pul- 
ford — when ?” 

“ I have given up my ambitions and my love 
because I dare not do otherwise,” said Lady Trevor, 
in a hard voice. “ But I surrender to you, making 
one single condition. The engagement must be 
kept a profound secret between you and me so 
long as we remain in Scotland, and for a fortnight 
after our return to England.” 

“ You make conditions ? Suppose I refuse ?” 

“ Then I’ll dare you to do your worst. And if I 
am put in a felon’s dock, I’ll denounce you as my 
accomplice ; I’ll swear that you and Sir Albert 
forced me to commit the crime. I was but the weak 
instrument of your will and his.” 

Mr. Pulford started back, his face changing. 

He had set his heart upon an immediate announce- 
ment of his betrothal to Lady Trevor, and her 
unlooked-for acuteness had placed an obstacle in his 
path. 

“ By Jove !' he exclaimed. “ You are sharper than 


I IO 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


I gave you credit for. Why do you make this 
condition ?” 

“ On account of my grandfather. Lord St. Leon- 
ards cast me off because of my first marriage, and 
has never seen me since until now. He is intensely 
proud, and were he to learn of my engagement to 
marry you he would again disown me, and the for- 
tune I hope to inherit from him he would leave 
elsewhere." 

“ But how can six weeks’ delay reconcile him to 
our marriage ?” asked Mr. Pulford, suspiciously. 

“ I shall try to keep him here a week, and shall 
exert myself to win his love and confidence. When 
I return to England, I expect to go to St. Leonards, 
his own home. Two weeks there, in constant com- 
panionship with him, will complete the task I begin 
here. He will like me, grow to depend upon me, 
and will consent to our marriage !” 

Mr. Pulford regarded Lady Trevor with doubt 
and suspicion, but her eyes met his frankly, and she 
looked honest and sincere. 

“ The extra fortune is worth trying for,” he 
remarked, thoughtfully. “ Six weeks’ delay can 
make but little difference. I will wait.” 

“ Thank you. In the meantime, you are not to 
betray the secret of our engagement to a living 
soul.” 

“ I promise.” 

“ And you are not to criticize my actions. I desire 
to make the most of my last days of freedom. I 


The Betrothal. 


1 1 1 


shall receive Lord Glenham here. I shall do as I 
please in every respect.” 

“ I consent. Make the most of your six weeks of 
freedom, for punctually to the day I shall announce 
our engagement. And within a month thereafter 
you will become my wife.” 

“ There is nothing more to say, I believe,” she 
remarked. “ We drop the subject here — to renew it 
six weeks hence.” 

Mr. Pulford approached nearer to her and sud- 
denly bent and kissed her. She drew away haugh- 
tily, but commanded herself by a great effort, and 
concealed much of her anger and repulsion. 

“ Good-night, Edith,” said her suitor. “ You will 
do well to reconcile yourself to the inevitable. I am 
not a patient man, and I shall require my wife to 
treat me with respect and at least a semblance of 
affection.” 

He kissed her again in a triumphant fashion and 
then withdrew. 

Lady Trevor drew out her pocket-handkerchief 
and rubbed her cheek fiercely. 

“ How dare he ?” she muttered. “ I hate him- 
Rather than marry him I’d kill myself. I’ve six 
weeks of grace. Much may happen in six weeks !” 

She paced the drawing-room with hurried tread, 
her eyes gleaming, her breathing short and quick. 

“ Six weeks ;” she repeated, in a low whisper. “ In 
six weeks I shall be free from him forever. For in 
six weeks, Horace Pulford will be dead !” 



CHAPTER X. 

GETTING TO WORK. 

It was a rainy evening in London. The street 
lamps glimmered a sickly light through the gloom. 
The houseless poor huddled in doorways and under 
arches. Business men pressed rapidly through the 
streets, under shelter of their umbrellas. Cabs rat- 
tled busily over the pavements, scarcely one to be 
seen unoccupied. A few shops remained open, but 
no customers were to be seen before the counters. 
London was at its dreariest, seeming a great, desolate 
wilderness, without comfort or cheer within its wide 
boundaries. 

It was on this night, in the wet and gloom, that 
Cecil Rosse and her old servant, Gretchen, arrived at 
Charing Cross station to begin their life in England. 

Gretchen had learned a few words of English, but 
found herself helpless in emergency. As the pair 
stepped out upon the lighted platform, it was Cecil 
who took the lead. She was as ignorant of the world 
as her peasant companion, but her quick wit, super- 
[112] 



Getting to Work. 


ii3 


ior intelligence, and quiet observations had already 
acquainted her with the proper mode of procedure. 
She had bought on the journey a Bradshaw’s Guide, 
and had studied it attentively. As she now paused 
with Gretchen, a little dazed by the lights and con- 
fusion, her eyes rested on the long line of fast- 
filling cabs. She signalled a “ four-wheeler,” and 
approached it. Her luggage was secured and piled 
on top, and Cecil and Gretchen entered the vehicle. 

“ What hotel ?” asked the driver. 

Cecil named a hotel which she had selected from 
the advertisements, and the cab whirled out of the 
station into the wet and dreary streets. 

As Gretchen and her young mistress looked out 
of the windows, both experienced a sensation of 
home-sickness. 

“ I hope we have not done foolishly in leaving 
dear old Zorlitz,” sighed the old German woman. 
“ How desolate and strange it looks ! If we were 
ill here, who would care for us ? Yet if we were 
ill there, every villager would wait upon us and nurse 
us back to health.” 

“ If you are ill I will take care of you, Gretchen,” 
responded Cecil, with forced cheerfulness. “ It does 
look cheerless, I own, but this is England, my native 
land, and I ought not to feel as if I were a foreigner. 
We shall soon be settled and feel at home here, and 
living in London will be a grand experience for us. 
Think of the good villagers who have never quitted 


1 H 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


Zorlitz in all their lives ! How they will stare at 
you next year when we go back I” 

This view of the case brightened old Gretchen, 
who settled herself comfortably in her seat and 
began to anticipate the glories of her return to 
Zorlitz as a traveled person — one who had seen the 
world. 

The cab drew up before a little private hotel in a 
quiet and respectable street. The cabman pulled 
the bell, and Cecil and her servant alighted. A 
housemaid, in white cap and apron, opened the door 
to them, and led the way up-stairs to a small parlor. 
Then she summoned the proprietress of the house, 
a portly woman in black silk, who rustled in and 
who “ took stock ” of her guests with a pair of very 
keen eyes. 

It was impossible, however, to see in Cecil any- 
thing but a lady, young, very beautiful, very inno- 
cent, and in Gretchen anything but the honest, solid, 
German peasant woman. The landlady signified 
that she had suitable accommodations for them, and 
sent a porter to discharge the cabman and bring up 
the boxes. 

Cecil was presently conducted to a small upper 
room, with a high, four-post bedstead and old- 
fashioned furniture. A large, light closet, with a 
single bed, adjoined, and was intended for Gret- 
chen’s accommodation. 

The cheerlessness of the rooms was something 
oppressive. Cecil rang the bell and ordered tea 


Getting to Work . 


ii5 


and toast to be sent up, and over the tray the young 
mistress and her servant chatted, the former reso- 
lutely cheerful, and the latter trying to throw off 
the gloom that had settled upon her. 

“We will find lodgings to-morrow,” said Cecil. 
“ That’s the proper thing to do in England, Gret- 
chen. It is cheap, too, and we can keep house after 
a fashion, and you shall make our tea and toast, and 
we will have a little home for ourselves and be 
happy.” 

“ And if we get tired of London we can go back 
to Zorlitz. We have got plenty of money, Miss 
Cecil. We need not work unless we choose. I 
have the money the Herr Pastor left me all sewed 
in my stays. Still,” added the old woman, prudently, 
“ I’d like to keep that as a provision for my old 
age—” 

“ Then we must work. It will be better for us 
both to work. I shall turn my accomplishments to 
use, Gretchen ; but we will not be separated.” 

Cecil presently retired to her high bed, and 
Gretchen vanished into the inner room. 

The sun was shining when they awakened the 
next morning. After breakfast Cecil ordered in 
three or four of the morning newspapers, and 
eagerly studied the lists of “ Lodgings to Let.” She 
cut out most of these, ordered a cab, and, taking 
Gretchen with her, went out to secure her future 
home. 

She had a hard task before her, and after several 


Edith Trevor's Secret . 


1 16 


hours’ search returned to the hotel disheartened — 
and unsuccessful. 

After dinner she requested to see the landlady in 
the little hotel-parlor. The proprietress came in at 
once, and Cecil plunged into her story without 
delay, desiring advice. 

“ I have been out to-day to find lodgings,” she 
said, frankly. “We thought they would seem more 
homelike than a hotel. I cut the advertisements 
out of the newspapers, and we have been a great 
many miles in the cab, but we found no rooms to 
suit us.” 

“ That is singular,” replied the hotel-keeper. 
“ Was it that you were difficult to suit ?” 

“ Perhaps so,” answered Cecil, with a little hesita- 
tion. “ We wanted three rooms — a parlor and two 
bedrooms — in a respectable house and street, at a 
moderate price.” 

“ I should have thought they would have been 
easily found.” 

“We found several lodgings which we liked,” said 
Cecil, “ but the keepers of them demanded refer- 
ences. And we had no references.” 

The landlady looked at her lodger doubtfully. 

“ That is singular,” she commented. “ Do you 
know no one in London ?” 

“ Not a soul. We come from Zorlitz, in Germany, 
where my good uncle, the pastor of the Lutheran 
church, has just died,” explained Cecil, sorrowfully. 
“ I am of English parentage, and being left alone, 


Getting to Work. 


ii 7 


naturally desired to come to England. Any of the 
villagers, or the new pastor of Zorlitz, would answer 
for us that we were honest and good.” 

“ Your face declares that for you, Miss,” said the 
landlady, who had conceived a great liking for the 
beautiful young girl. “ You are much too pretty, if 
you’ll excuse me, to be wandering about to all sorts 
of houses in answer to advertisements. If you 
wish, I’ll find lodgings for you. In fact, I know of 
rooms that will suit you precisely, and the landlady, 
Mrs. Thomas, is my own sister.” 

“You are very kind, and I thank you.” 

“ Oh, not at all, Miss. The truth is, a hotel is no 
place for you. At my sister’s you will live more 
private-like and retired. If you wish I will take 
you around to her house directly.” 

Cecil assented and ordered a cab. The three 
entered it and proceeded to the address which Mrs. 
Carey had given the driver. 

“ It’s a most respectable locality,” said the hotel- 
proprietress, as they were whirled along over the 
pavements — “ Number Pour, Queen’s Crescent, 
Argyle street, Bayswater — and most genteel, with a 
solicitor living next door, and a doctor at Number 
One, and a rich city merchant at Number Seven. 
And my sister has a fine set of lodgers, a young 
medical student, a professor of music, and a curate 
— quite professional, I tell my sister.” 

Queen’s Crescent, Argyle street, Bayswater, 
proved to be a very clean and quiet region, with an 


1 18 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


air of respectability about its dull brick houses. The 
Crescent fronted a section of park-like ground 
enclosed with an iron railing, There were no shops 
of any kind in the vicinity, a fact which Mrs. Carey 
pointed out with pride. 

The cab stopped before Number Four and Mrs. 
Carey led the way up the walk to the door. She 
plied the knocker vigorously, and a maid appeared, 
giving them admittance. Mrs. Carey ushered Cecil 
and her servant into a parlor and hurried away in 
quest of her sister. 

She returned a few minutes later accompanied 
by Mrs. Thomas, a stout, red-faced person, with a 
kindly, good-natured face which was very attractive 
to Cecil. Mrs. Carey effected the necessary intro- 
ductions, and said : 

“ My sister says that she thinks her rooms will 
suit you, Miss Rosse, if you don’t mind the third 
floor. The drawing-room floor is let to a family, 
but there are rooms above that have been recently 
left vacant.” 

“ Come up and look at them,” said Mrs. Thomas, 
charmed with the beauty of the young girl, and 
with the winsome manners that always won friends 
for Cecil. “ They are newly furnished.” 

Cecil followed the landlady up two flights of 
stairs to a front room upon the third floor. It was 
a spacious chamber, fitted up as a parlor, and pos- 
sessed three windows looking out upon the park-like 
enclosure in front of the Crescent. The carpet was 


Getting to Work. 


119 


of crimson figures on a gray ground ; the furniture 
was of crimson rep, and there were two framed 
engravings on the white walls. A neat little bed- 
room, overlooking a small courtyard, adjoined, and 
the cleanliness of this latter chamber was apparent 
at a glance. A smaller bedroom at the rear end of 
the hall adjoined this, and was deemed suitable for 
Gretchen. 

“ I like these rooms,” said Cecil, “ but I fear they 
will be beyond my means.” 

“ I will let you have them for a guinea a week, 
Miss Rosse, although I have had thirty shillings 
for them,” said Mrs. Thomas. “Attendance is 
included ; that means that your food will be cooked 
for you in my kitchen by my cook, and served to 
you in my parlor.” 

“ I will take the rooms,” said Cecil, after a brief 
conference with Gretchen. “ But I am a stranger 
in London, and can give no references. Can I not 
pay in advance instead ?” 

She took out her pocket-book, extracting from it 
a sovereign and a shilling, and tendered the money 
to Mrs. Thomas, who took it with a smile. 

“ When can I come ?” the girl asked. 

“ As soon as you please. The rooms are ready 
for occupancy, and they are now yours.” 

“ Then I will come to-night — ” 

“ You had better stay now, Miss Rosse,” said 
Mrs. Carey. “ I will send your boxes to you. It is 
not necessary that you should return to the hotel.” 


I 20 


Edith Trevor's Secret. 


Cecil acted upon this advice and removed her hat 
and jacket, taking possession of her new quarters. 
Gretchen returned with Mrs. Carey to the hotel, 
and came back in the cab with the boxes. Mrs. 
Thomas brought up a supper of toasted muffins, 
tea, marmalade, and cold meat, and waited upon 
her new lodger with her own hands. Then she 
explained her system of housekeeping, and Cecil 
placed a sovereign in her keeping to be expended 
for table supplies. 

The next morning, after breakfast, Cecil and 
Gretchen sat down to consider their future mode 
of living. Both deemed it advisable to keep their 
little fortunes for age, illness, and pressing need. 
Both were anxious to work. Mrs. Thomas came in 
in the midst of the conference, and Cecil appealed 
to her for advice. 

“ What can you do, Miss Rosse ?” inquired the 
landlady, with interest. 

“ I can teach music, French and German, and the 
usual branches of education,” said Cecil. “ I under- 
stand mathematics very well indeed. I can paint 
and draw, embroider, and make lace, and many 
fancy things that young ladies are taught to do in 
Germany.” 

“ Would you like a situation as governess ?” 

“ Not as resident governess. I must not be separ- 
ated from Gretchen,” answered Cecil. “ If I could 
do something to pay our current expenses I should 
be very glad.” 


Getting to Work. 


i2i 


“ Embroideries in silk or wool sell well,” said 
Mrs. Thomas, meditatively. “ If you could do some- 
thing in that line it might be sold. There’s a rage 
for embroideries at present.” 

“ I will buy materials and go to work this very 
day,” said Cecil. 

“ Then let me advise you to go to a first-class shop 
in the fashionable shopping quarter,” said Mrs. 
Thomas. “ Go to Regent street for your materials, 
and possibly you can find sale at the same place for 
your work.” 

Cecil thanked the landlady for her advice, and as 
soon as Mrs. Thomas had departed she went out 
with Gretchen. A cab conveyed them to Regent 
street. 

“ We must go by omnibus hereafter,” said Cecil. 
“We shall soon understand the system of omni- 
buses.” 

The cab drew up before a fine shop, with plate- 
glass windows, and Cecil alighted. A shopwoman, 
handsomely dressed, came forward to wait upon her. 
Cecil made known her wishes, and patterns and 
wools were spread before her. 

“ Do you ever buy these when completed ?” asked 
Miss Rosse. 

The shopwoman looked surprised. The proud, 
young face, and patrician air had led her to believe 
her customer one of importance, and there was a 
perceptible difference in her manner as she re- 
sponded : 


122 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


“ That is not our way of doing business, Miss. 
We have several embroiderers in our employ, and 
they execute all orders." 

“ If you desire to add to the number of your 
embroiderers, I should like work,” said Cecil, gently. 
“ Here is a sample of my work.” 

She displayed a strip of cashmere elegantly 
embroidered in silk. The design was her own, and 
simply exquisite. The work was marvelously fine 
and beautiful. The Herr Pastor’s wife had been 
skilled in the arts of the needle, and Cecil’s taste and 
talent had made her productions superior to that 
of her teacher. 

The shopwoman examined the strip, which was a 
portion of a dress Cecil was embroidering for her- 
self, and exclaimed : 

“ Why, this is the real French work. Excuse me ; 
I wish to show it to madam.” 

She carried it into an inner room, and presently 
returned, inviting Cecil to enter. Miss Rosse fol- 
lowed her, finding herself in the presence of the pro- 
prietress of the establishment, a stout, dark French- 
woman, who would have received her with an air of 
patronage but that the girl’s unconscious dignity 
compelled her respect. 

“ Your work is very fine, Mademoiselle,” said the 
shopkeeper. “ I can give you plenty to do, with 
very good pay. I have an order on hand for a 
baby’s cloak in white cashmere, and as it is for one 
of my best customers, who is very particular, and as 


Getting to Work. 


1 23 


my best embroideress is fully occupied with work 
taken before this came in, I have been compelled to 
keep the lady waiting. Who designed this work of 
yours ?” 

“ I did it,” replied Cecil, modestly. 

“ Then make me a design for the cloak. I will 
pay well for it if it suits me. And you shall have 
the task of embroidering the garment. I can give 
you constant employment.” 

“ I had expected to find work only with difficulty,” 
said Cecil. “ I am a stranger in London, and where 
there are so many women out of employment who 
have always lived here, it seems strange that I 
should get something to do at once.” 

“ It is not strange, Mademoiselle. The trouble 
with most people who do not get work is, that they 
cannot do anything well. A skilled workwoman 
can always get work. There is room for first-class 
milliners, dressmakers, and people of other trades 
everywhere at good pay, if they will seek their place 
and do their best in it. When will you bring the 
design ?” 

“ I should like two or three days in which to per- 
fect it, but I may come sooner.” 

The interview was thus concluded and Cecil 
returned to the cab and Gretchen. After directing 
the driver to proceed to a stationer’s, the young girl 
exclaimed : 

“ It is all right, Gretchen. I am sure of good pay 
and plenty of work, This is better than going out 


Edith Trevor's Secret. 


1 24 


as governess. We shall be always together, and I 
won’t be obliged to enter strange houses and meet 
strange people.” 

At the stationer’s Cecil procured drawing mater- 
ials, and they returned to Bayswater. 

The girl entered upon her new task with enthus- 
iasm. She made an elaborate design, weaving into 
it a score of graceful and dainty fancies. Roses and 
buds and trailing vines grew under her pencil into a 
creation of marvelous beauty. Her task was finished 
the next day, for she sat up late that night to work 
upon it, and she carried it to Regent street, Gretchen 
attending her. The French shopkeeper was quite 
delighted with it. Her keen eyes were quick to 
detect the artist’s genius in the beautiful creation, 
and she congratulated herself on having obtained a 
prize in Miss Rosse. 

When Cecil quitted the shop, she had made an 
engagement with its proprietress by which she would 
be more than able to pay her current expenses and 
those of her servant. Gretchen carried the little 
parcel of cashmere and embroidery-silks. As they 
passed out into the street, Cecil looked for an omni- 
bus to convey them home. 

The two were standing upon the curbstone, when 
a man who had been sauntering leisurely along 
the pavement with a discontented expression on his 
swarthy face, caught sight of them. He recognized 
them with a great start, and sprang forward, 
exclaiming :j 


Getting to Work . 


125 


“ Miss Rosse ! Cecil ! Can it be possible ?” 

The girl turned hastily and recognized him with 
a glow of pleasure. 

“ Mr. Crafton !” she exclaimed. 

“ Maldred Crafton, at your service ! I’ve just 
been over to Germany to see you. No one could 
give me your address. This is pure luck. Thank 
Heaven, I have found you !” and an exultant flash 
leaped to the villain’s eyes. “ I was always a lucky 
fellow !” 



CHAPTER XI. 

A FATEFUL ENCOUNTER. 

Cecil Rosse had never thoroughly liked the 
chosen friend of Lord Glenham. Crafton had 
seemed to her insincere, and she had experienced 
an instinctive distrust of him, for which she had 
often blamed herself, saying in her own heart that 
he must be good, or Lord Glenham would not 
choose him for his constant companion. That the 
earl, who seemed to her wise above other men, 
might have been himself deceived, did not occur to 
her. 

Meeting Crafton now in a country in which she 
was a stranger, she forgot her former aversion 
to him, and held out both her hands in delighted 
greeting, her face lighted up with pleasure. He 
was a link between her and dear old Zorlitz and the 
dead pastor — between her and the earl, the hero of 
her girlish dreams. Crafton’s swarthy face was as 
[126] 




A Fateful Encounter . 


27 


beautiful to her in that moment as if it had been 
the face of an angel. 

“ I am so glad to see you,” she exclaimed. “ It is 
such a surprise — ” 

“ To me as to you, Miss Rosse,” responded 
Grafton, pressing her hand fervently. “ Yet I was 
thinking of you at that moment.” 

“You remind me of home,” said Cecil. “I feel 
almost as if I were back at Zorlitz.” 

“You have Gretchen with you, I see. How do 
you do, Gretchen ?” said Grafton, addressing the 
old German woman politely. “ This is a change 
for you, is it not ? Have you friends in London, 
Miss Rosse, or relatives ?” 

“ I have no relatives in the whole world,” replied 
the girl. “ I came here because — you do not know 
the trouble I have had, Mr. Crafton. My dear 
uncle is dead !” 

“ I know it. You did not understand me, I dare 
say, in the excitement of our meeting, but I am 
but just returned from Zorlitz.” 

Cecil uttered an exclamation of surprise. 

“ I have a great deal to say to you, but this is no 
place for explanations,” said Crafton, glancing 
about him. “We are attracting attention, too. 
Permit me to accompany you to your lodgings, 
where we can talk at our leisure.” 

Cecil assented and signaled an omnibus. Crafton 
assisted the young lady and her servant to enter it, 
and followed them. The ride was a silent one, 


128 


Edith Trevor's Secret . 


necessarily, there being other passengers, and 
Crafton gave a sigh of relief as they alighted in the 
Bayswater district and continued the journey on 
foot. 

Cecil had just narrated the manner in which she 
had discovered her present lodgings, when they 
arrived at Number Four, Queen’s Crescent. The 
housemaid gave them admittance, and Crafton was 
ushered into Mrs. Thomas’ own parlor. Leaving 
Gretchen with him, Cecil sought her landlady, 
whom she found in the basement dining-room. 

“ I met an old friend whom I knew in Germany 
in the street this morning, Mrs. Thomas,” she said, 
“ and I invited him home with me. I have taken 
the liberty of showing him into your parlor — ” 

“ And quite right, and welcome, too !” exclaimed 
the landlady, “ It was very proper not to take him 
up to your own parlor, and mine is always at your 
service.” 

Cecil expressed her thanks and returned to her 
visitor, whom she found pacing to and fro, pausing 
now and then to look out upon the green enclosure 
in front, and conversing with old Gretchen, who 
was making many anxious inquiries after the good 
people of Zorlitz. 

As Cecil came in, Crafton advanced to meet her, 
his face lighting up with a bright glow. It seemed 
to him that she was more beautiful even than when 
he had seen her at Zorlitz, the most beautiful girl 
his eyes had ever rested upon. 


129 


A Fateful Encounter. 


She was indeed a rare and radiant vision, in her 
youth and loveliness, with the golden shimmer in 
her red-brown hair, and the golden glint in her red- 
brown eyes. The good pastor had not liked a 
mourning-garb, deeming it a token of unsubmission 
to the will of Providence, and in deference to his 
often expressed wishes, Cecil wore no crape and 
bombazine. Her dress of black cashmere, adorned 
with silk embroidery, the work of her own hands, 
was relieved by white lace ruffles, that set off the 
slender throat and small white hands to advantage. 
Her marvelous complexion, soft and creamy in its 
tinting as the broad petals of the Nile lily, con- 
trasted with the vivid carmine of her sweet and 
tender mouth. Crafton noticed the unconsciously 
haughty pose of the lovely head ; the grace and 
perfect breeding that distinguished her, and his love 
for her was quickened into a consuming passion 
that for the time dominated his entire being. 

“You are not changed during the past three 
weeks,” he observed. 

“ Yet it seems a lifetime since I saw you at Zor- 
litz,” sighed Cecil, taking the chair he placed for 
her. “ During those three weeks my life has 
entirely changed. My dear uncle is dead, and I am 
in a foreign land, for though I am of English birth, 
still I am a stranger here.” 

“ Were you born in England, Miss Cecil ?” 

“ I do not quite know, but my parents were Eng- 
lish — at least my uncle thought so.” 


130 


Edith Trevor's Secret. 


“ Thought so ? Did he not know ? Were you not 
his niece ?” demanded Crafton, in surprise. 

The girl blushed hotly. 

“ I did not intend to say what I did, Mr. Crafton,” 
she said. “ I thought you knew, and so spoke with- 
out thought.” 

“But will you not explain ? You have aroused 
my curiosity. Were you not the niece of Herr 
Brocken ?” 

“ No, I was only the child of his love and care. I 
am not of German blood. I am of English descent,” 
said Cecil ; “ but my origin is wrapped in mystery. 
I do not know what name I ought to bear — but do 
not let us talk of this, Mr. Crafton. I do not expect 
to ever solve the mystery of my birth, and I prefer 
not to waste time in speculating upon the subject.” 

“ But your beauty, your — pardon me, Miss Cecil, 
but my surprise must be my apology for continuing 
to speak upon this matter. I know you must have 
come of some noble family. 1 Blood will tell.’ 
There is no mystery so deep that it cannot be pene- 
trated. If you would only tell me your story, I 
might be able to discover your relatives.” 

“ I do not want to discover them,” said the girl, 
proudly. “ They abandoned me, and I would not 
force myself upon their notice. A man — a gentle- 
man in appearance — brought me to the house of the 
Herr Pastor of Zorlitz fourteen years ago, when I 
was a child of three years. The good pastor and 
his wife received me at his hands, a nameless waif, 


A Fateful Encounter. 


I 3 I 


cared for me, adopted me, loved me, and called me, 
by the name I bear. I have no right to any name. 
Mr. Crafton. I belong to no family. My mother 
may live ; she may pass me in the street to-morrow, 
yet if she knew and recognized me, she would not 
dare to own me. Let us speak upon some other 
subject. Tell me of Zorlitz.” 

Crafton obeyed. The new pastor was settled in 
the parsonage with his family. The son of Herr 
Frolich was married to pretty Fraulein Wilmer. 
There was no other news from Zorlitz. News was 
a scarce commodity in that secluded forest-hamlet. 

“ Why did you go back to Zorlitz so soon ?” asked 
Cecil, wonderingly. 

“ To see you — and the good pastor. Imagine my 
consternation on hearing of his death and your 
departure. No one could tell me where you were, 
save that you had gone to London. One might as 
well search for a needle in a haystack as search for 
a lady in London. I was in despair. I arrived in 
town only last night. I was intending to start for 
Scotland this very night. It was fate that led me 
to walk in Regent street this morning— it was fate 
that led you there. Our meeting had in it some- 
thing of the marvelous. I am inclined to be incred- 
ulous of my good fortune.” 

Cecil smiled. Not comprehending as yet the 
vastness of the overgrown metropolis, the rencontre 
did not appear to her so marvelous. 

There was a question she longed to ask, but dared 


132 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


not. Gretchen, however, having no maidenly con- 
sciousness upon the subject, broached the subject, 
saying : 

“ Where is my Lord Glenham ? Did he go with 
you to Zorlitz, Herr Crafton ?” 

Crafton smiled significantly. He knew that Glen- 
ham loved Cecil ardently, passionately, with all his 
soul. He believed that Cecil returned that love. 
But as the pair had not been betrothed, had not even 
come to an understanding with each other, he deter- 
mined to effect, if possible, an estrangement between 
them. 

“And their estrangement will be my opportu- 
nity,” he said to himself. “ In her pride, anger, or 
wounded love, she will consent to become my wife. 
I shall have everything my own way.” 

He looked at Cecil, as he replied carelessly to old 
Gretchen: 

“ Lord Glenham did not accompany me to 
Germany. I went alone.” 

“ Is his lordship in London ?” asked the German 
woman. 

“ No, he is in Scotland with a lot of friends shoot- 
ing. He is having a delightful time, the more 
delightful because his nearest neighbor is a lady 
for whom he has a great admiration,” and Crafton 
smiled. 

A swift pang of jealousy traversed Cecil’s heart. 
Her face was paler than usual, and her eyes fixed 


A Fateful Encounter . 


133 


themselves upon her visitor in a burning gaze, but 
still she did not speak. 

“Who is the lady ?” asked old Gretchen, abruptly, 
noting the change in her young mistress, and know- 
ing well its cause. 

“ The lady is a young widow, a beauty, and 
immensely rich, the granddaughter of Lord St. Leon- 
ards, one of the first peers of the realm. Her name 
is Lady Trevor.” 

“And what is Lord Glenham to her?” asked 
Gretchen. 

“He is her admirer, her suitor, her lover,” re- 
sponded Crafton, lying with an air so plausible that 
the woman believed him. “ He is her betrothed.” 

Cecil grew pale as death, but she uttered no 
exclamation. Her self-control was something won- 
derful in one so young and unused to society. But 
that she had received a terrible blow one could not 
doubt. 

“ He betrothed ?” ejaculated old Gretchen. “ He 
did not say so ; he did not act as if he were while 
he was at Zorlitz.” 

“ No ? You think so because you did not know his 
secret. Englishmen are reticent — too reticent, I 
think. Glenham loves Lady Trevor. Her beauty 
gratifies his eyes ; her noble birth and high connec- 
tions flatter his pride. I think,” added Crafton, 
deliberately, “ if he loved Venus herself and there 
were any flaw or blemish in that lady’s origin, 
he would decline the honor of an alliance with her. 


34 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


The English nobility are sticklers for noble birth in 
seeking a mate. So you can understand that Glen- 
ham is well-suited in Lady Trevor,” he added. 

Cecil averted her face. She was proud as any 
titled dame in England, not with a petty and igno- 
ble pride born of vanity, but with that pride that 
scorns a mean action, and compels one to preserve 
intact one’s self-respect. She could not permit her 
visitor to see the suffering his words had caused her, 
but the struggle to hide her agony was something 
terrible. 

“ How soon will Lord Glenham marry this Lady 
Trevor ?” asked old Gretchen, to cover her mistress’ 
silence. 

“ Some time this winter. He has a bad habit of 
falling in love with every pretty face he sees,” lied 
Crafton, boldly, “ and Lady Trevor naturally dis- 
likes that trait of his, so the marriage will take place 
soon, and she can then watch over him with wifely 
care. He is a noble fellow, as generous as the sun, 
but he is fickle and inconstant as the wind. It is not 
his fault. He was made so, and one cannot belie 
one’s own nature.” 

“ And he is in Scotland with her now ?” asked the 
old German woman. 

“ In the same neighborhood. They see each other 
every day. The countess, Glenham’s mother, is 
anxious for her son’s marriage with Lady Trevor, 
and is with her son. Lord St. Leonards is up there, 
too, and among them all the earl is held pretty close 


A Fateful E ncounter . 


135 


to his betrothal-vows. I expected to find you at 
Zorlitz, Miss Rosse, and Glenham desired to be 
remembered to you. He told me to tell you that he 
should never forget your kindness to him, and that 
he should return to Zorlitz next summer, bringing 
his bride with him !” 

“ I — I may not be there,” said Cecil, bravely, 
although her lips quivered. “ But please thank him, 
in my name, for his remembrance of me. And — and 
convey to him my best wishes for his happiness.” 

“ I will do so. You look tired, Miss Rosse. Per- 
mit me to cut my visit short and to call again to- 
morrow. I shall remain in town a day or two.” 

“ I shall be pleased to see you,” said Cecil, 
simply. 

“Thanks. I will come. And now let me bid you 
good-morning.” 

He moved towards the door, hat in hand. Gret- 
chen followed to give him egress. At the outer 
door, he whispered to the old servant : 

“ Come outside. I shall wait for you at the corner 
of the Crescent. I have something of importance to 
say to you.” 

The old woman nodded assent and closed the 
door after him. Then she returned to the parlor. 

Cecil was standing near the centre of the room, 
every vestige of brightness and color stricken from 
her lovely face ; her glorious young beauty over- 
shadowed by an anguish too deep for tears. 

“ My poor lamb !” cried the old woman, in a burst 


136 


Edith Trevor's Secret. 


of pity and grief. “ Lord Glenham is a bad, bad 
man — " 

“ Hush, Gretchen,” said the girl, wearily. “ I can- 
not hear you speak ill of him. He is good and 
noble." 

“ He made love to you while he was betrothed to 
a lady of his own country. I liked him, but I like 
him no longer." 

“ Oh, hush, dear Gretchen ; you hurt me cruelly. 
He liked me as if he had been my brother, that is 
all. How could one expect a noble lord to marry 
one like me, a nameless thing rejected by my own 
kin ?" 

“ He told the Herr Pastor that he loved you," 
persisted Gretchen. “ He said he should come 
again in a year to claim you. The Herr Pastor told 
him your history. It was that that made him give 
you up. If you had been well born, he would have 
broken off with his English love and married you. 
Fickle and faithless, you are well rid of him, Miss 
Cecil. Don’t fret. Don’t look like that ! Come up 
stairs. Mrs. Thomas will return, now that Mr. 
Crafton has gone. She will see you — " 

Cecil moved forward as under the sting of a spur. 
She hurried up-stairs with swift, impetuous tread, 
and entered her little parlor, commencing to walk to 
and fro with the rapid grace of a caged leopardess. 

The old woman began some invective against 
Lord Glenham, but her young mistress stopped her 
by a gesture. 


A Fateful Encounter. 


l 37 


“ Do not speak of him again !” said the girl. “ I 
do not blame him ; I was not a fit mate for him. It 
is better that he should marry a lady noble and rich. 
His mother would not have liked me. It is better 
as it is, Gretchen — only I know that he did love me, 
and if he had deemed me worthy to be his wife he 
would have been true to me. I think, too, that he 
could not have been betrothed last summer, but I 
do not doubt that he is now. Nothing can shake 
my faith in his honor, Gretchen. I hope he will be 
happy,” and the sweet voice broke down in a sob. 
“ Leave me to myself for a little. I shall be all 
right soon.” 

She went into her bedroom and closed her door. 

The old woman proceeded to her own room, put 
on her bonnet, and descended to the street. She 
found Grafton waiting impatiently for her at the 
corner of the Crescent. 

“ You wished to see me, sir ?” she said, with bitter- 
ness. “ Well, I am here !” 

“ So I see,” was the cool response. “ I wanted to 
speak to you about your mistress, Gretchen. Lord 
Glenham had quarreled with his betrothed last sum- 
mer, and was in a mood to marry some one else in 
haste. He conceived an infatuation for Miss Rosse, 
and would have married her but that he suspected 
a mystery concerning her birth — ” 

“ He knew of the mystery. The Herr Pastor told 
him all.” 

“ Yes, I know,” said Crafton, lying. “ And that 


138 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


revelation quenched his love. He couldn’t marry a 
nameless girl, you understand, and took to flight. 
Since his return he has become reconciled to Lady 
Trevor, and their marriage will be hurried forward. 
He is good and noble, and he is sadly troubled about 
his little flirtation of last summer. He fears that he 
won Miss Rosse’s heart — ” 

“ He need not fear it,” cried the old woman, 
angrily. “ I’ll tell her what you say. And you may 
tell him that Miss Rosse will be quite able to sur- 
vive his loss. Oh, to think he should turn out like 
this, and he so handsome, so gentle, so courteous 
even to the lowest. Why, we thought him perfect.” 

“No one is that ; but he has very few faults, 
Gretchen, very few. But I did not ask you to meet 
me here to talk of him. Miss Rosse is friendless, 
with the exception of me. I would die to serve her. 
I desire to place my purse in your hands. You need 
not tell her, you know, and I cannot bear that she 
should know what privation is.” 

“ You are kind, sir, but we have plenty of money 
and plenty of work.” 

“ She work ! That peerless creature ! I cannot 
bear that she should toil while I have so much. 
Take my purse, Gretchen — ” 

“I thank you, sir,” responded the old woman, 
firmly, “ but I cannot take one penny from you. 
But I appreciate your kindness, and am grateful for 
it. Work will not hurt my little lady. But for 
work she might brood over her troubles — ” 


A Fate fill Encounter . 


i39 


“ But if you ever need help of a friend, you will 
send to me? Promise me, Gretchen.” 

“ I do promise. You are our best friend — hers, I 
mean,” said the old woman. “ And if she needs 
friendship, I will come or send to you.” 

“And I shall come often to see her. You must 
have read my secret, Gretchen. I loved Miss 
Cecil — I love her now with all my soul. If she 
would but let me shelter her from the world, care for 
her, and minister to her, I should be the happiest of 
men. I have an elegant home to offer her. I have 
an independent fortune. And you should never be 
separated from her, but should live like a lady for 
the rest of 3 T our days. Do you think I have no 
chance with her, Gretchen ? I am not rich, like the 
earl ; I am not a lord, nor as handsome as he, but I 
have a warm, true heart that worships her. Do 
you think I might hope to win her ?” 

The old woman surveyed him with keen scrutiny. 
His swarthy face and glowing black eyes showed 
how deeply he was in earnest. She could not 
doubt the truth of his professions of love for her 
young mistress, and in spite of previous aversion to 
him, her heart warmed toward him. 

“ After a little, Miss Cecil may be willing to listen 
to you, sir,” she said. “ I will use my influence, and I 
have a great deal, with her. We are two lone women 
in a strange country. If anything were to happen to 
me — and I am growing old now — she would be left 
all alone. She is beautiful, innocent, and so very 


140 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


young, little more than a child. If I could see her 
a happy wife, the mistress of a pleasant home, I 
could be content. Only have patience, sir, and all 
will be well.” 

“ I will be patient. I can wait. I love her, and 
the faintest hope of winning her will sustain me 
through months of suspense. I will not detain you 
longer, Gretchen. I will call upon Miss Rosse 
to-morrow. Remember your promise." 

He wrung her hand and hurried away, muttering, 
exultantly : 

“ So far well. What a streak of luck I’ve had 
this morning. First, the meeting with her. That 
was unexpected to me — a regular fatality ! Then my 
lies about Glenham. They were clever, for im- 
promptu efforts, I flatter myself. That girl is 
proud enough. How she held control of herself ! 
She believed me, of course, and is now crying her 
eyes out, I don't doubt. I wonder what Glenham 
would say to my little fiction. The result will con- 
firm my story. Between them all, Lady Trevor, 
Lady Glenham, and Lord St. Leonards, he’ll be 
forced into an engagement of marriage with the 
handsome widow, or I am no judge of the strength 
of will of his opponents. I shall keep my knowl- 
edge of Cecil’s whereabouts to myself, and win and 
marry her before he knows that she has left Zorlitz. 
I believe,” and he smiled grimly, “ that I am now 
master of the situation !” 

Gretchen returned home, saying to herself : 


A Fateful Encounter . 


141 


“How we misjudged Herr Crafton ! We took 
the glitter for refined gold and threw aside the gold 
as dross. He is noble and good. I shall use all my 
influence with Miss Cecil to induce her to marry 
him. And, after a little, I think I can persuade her 
to accept him. I shall not rest until she is his 
wife !” 



CHAPTER XII. 

MOTHER AND SON. 

It was the morning after Lady Glenham’s arrival 
at Breezy Lodge, a magnificent autumnal morning, 
with crisp and frosty atmosphere, clear and bracing, 
and with splendid sunshine flooding the valleys and 
glorifying the hoary and rugged mountain tops-. It 
was a morning for sportsmen, dogs and guns, and 
Lord Glenham’s guests sallied forth with their 
Highland guides in quest of feathered game. The 
earl remained with his lady-mother, who desired a 
private interview with him. 

The two were together in the drawing-room of 
the Lodge — a long, low, wainscoted room, with 
seven windows overlooking the steep descent and 
the wooded valley below, and commanding a majes- 
tic prospect of mountains and distant sea. The 
furniture was old-fashioned and substantial. A fire 
was burning on the hearth, and Lady Glenham sat 
before it with a feathered screen in her hand. 

She was a noble-looking woman, with a peculiar 
[142] 


Mother and Son. 


T 43 


majesty of bearing that rendered her exceptionally 
distinguished even in the queen’s drawing-room. 
She was fair and haughty, with gray hair arranged 
in puffs above her forehead, with frosty blue eyes 
and a firm, proud mouth, and she carried herself 
like an empress. She did not look like a woman 
given to tenderness. Her leading characteristic 
was pride, yet with all her soul she loved her son. 
That he had remained unmarried until now had 
sorely troubled her. That he had never loved till 
now had been a grief to her. His fair and splendid 
manly beauty was the delight of her eyes and heart. 
She knew him to be noble, manly, brave, and honor- 
able. He had the high-bred Englishman’s horror 
of untruth, and his love for her was chivalrous 
and reverential. She had deemed him perfect — until 
now. 

Lord Glenham had drawn a seat near her own 
and had prepared himself for the attack he expected. 
He had not long to wait. 

“ You ought to call at Castle Cliff this morning, 
Gordon,” said the countess. “ Lord St. Leonards 
left his card yesterday in person. And Lady 
Trevor will naturally expect to see you — such good 
friends as you have always been with her.” 

“ I have been friendly with her, mother,” said the 
earl, “ but it was principally because I like the mar- 
quis and pitied his loneliness. He is old ; she is his 
only living descendant. It seems to me that he 


144 


Edith Trevor's Secret. 


would be happier if he would be reconciled to her, 
and she would delight in ministering to him." 

“ Lady Trevor is a very handsome woman,” 
observed the countess. 

“Very handsome,” replied the earl, rather 
absently. “ But I like fair beauties best,” and he 
looked affectionately into the fair face beside him. 

Lady Glenham flushed a little. She could not 
hear unmoved her son’s praise. 

“ Lady Trevor has not always been wise,” she 
remarked. “ Her marriage with Sir Albert Trevor 
was a folly and madness, but she has repented it. 
She has a great fortune, inherited from her step- 
mother, through the death of her little step-sister. 
I had hoped, Gordon, that you would present her to 
me before this as my daughter and Lady Glen- 
ham’s voice slightly trembled. 

“ You love her so well, mother?” asked the earl, 
gently. 

“ It would be a suitable alliance,” said Lady Glen- 
ham, evasively. “ Her beauty, rank and wealth 
render her a match for a duke. Her grandfather is 
become reconciled to her, I suppose, and she will 
have another fortune at his death. You will succeed 
to his title and estates ; how fitting that you should 
marry his descendant !” 

“ I don’t quite agree with you, mother. I don’t 
love Lady Trevor, therefore I cannot ask her to 
marry me. I do love one far superior to her in 
beauty and genius, and who is many years younger 


Mother and Son . 


I4S 


than she. Mother, if you would see Miss Rosse you 
would love her. Think what it would be to you to 
have a daughter so youthful, so lovely, so gentle, 
who would love you as I do. If you would only go 
with me to Zorlitz — ” 

“ My poor boy, you have been deceived by some 
wicked adventuress. You said that the girl was 
English, and the adopted niece of the German pastor. 
Now who are her English relatives ? You said that 
there was some mystery about her ; that the pastor 
did not know her name or identity; that a man had 
brought her to his house and asked him to care for 
her and bring her up, offering to pay for her sup- 
port some trifling sum. You said that this myster- 
ious guardian stipulated that the girl should be 
brought up as a servant. The man then disappeared, 
vanishing as mysteriously as he had come, and never 
again showed himself at Zorlitz, nor wrote, nor sent 
a messenger to enquire after his unfortunate charge. 
There is but one explanation to all this mystery, 
Gordon. The girl has no right to any name.” 

The earl's fair face reddened. 

“ I suppose you are right, mother,” he said, in a 
low voice, “ in respect to your theory of her origin. 
The pastor said as much to me. But whatever her 
origin, Cecil Rosse is a pure and stainless lily, a 
noble, lovely girl who would be an honor to our 
house. She is an angel, mother, and I adore her !” 

“ For the sake of an infatuation that is wonderful 
at your age, Gordon, you would present to me this 


146 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


nameless creature as my daughter ? would make her 
Countess of Glenham ? Think of it ! You would 
bring to me, the daughter of a duke, this girl as my 
successor !” 

“ If you would only see her — ” 

“ I will not see her. I would not lower myself so 
far as to go to Zorlitz to look on her false face. I 
have seen one such marriage as you contemplate. 
Lord Harry Ravendale, the only son of the Mar- 
quis of St. Leonards, married an adventuress and 
repented his folly in anguish. I would rather see 
you dead than the husband of that woman.” 

“ Mother !” 

“ I speak truth. Marry her, Gordon, and 1 will 
never look upon your face again. More — I will give 
you my curse — ” 

“ Mother !" 

The earl sprang to his feet, white and startled. 

“ I mean it,” said the countess, sternly, her haughty 
face rigid as marble and singularly stern. “ If you 
degrade the name I bear by bestowing it upon her, 
then I shall curse you !” 

Lord Glenham’s face grew stern also, but sorrow- 
ful even unto anguish. 

“ If I do not marry Cecil Rosse,” he exclaimed, 
“ then I will go to my grave unwedded. You know 
that I never loved before. I never had any boyish 
fancies. I never cared for any woman save you, 
mother. And now when love comes to me it comes 
in a resistless torrent, an overwhelming passion, 


Mother and Son. 


147 


that cannot be conquered and which will grow 
stronger with every day and hour of my life. If it 
be true that souls are made to mate, then is Cecil 
Rosse my twin spirit. I cannot marry her, if she 
would accept me, and brave your curse, mother. 
But what a frightful thing to say to your son ! I think 
she loves me. Can you bear the guilt of wrecking 
her life and mine. 

“ Far better than I could bear to see her your 
wife. The girl is unworthy of you, and the convic- 
tion of that fact will sustain me even under your 
reproaches, Gordon. Oh, my boy, how can you 
wreck my life for the sake of this woman ? I have 
built all my hopes on you. My son, my son, do not 
disappoint me so cruelly ! Have pity on your 
mother’s gray hairs !” pleaded the countess, her 
voice suddenly breaking, her noble features work- 
ing. “ I have made you my idol. Must I be pun- 
ished like this ?” 

She wrung her hands in an agony of grief. Her 
son leaned against the mantel-piece and looked 
upon her with an agitation equal to her own. 

“ Mother, you agonize yourself for nothing,” he 
exclaimed. “ I will stake my soul on Cecil’s purity 
and truth — ” 

“ And on that of her parents ? Can you tell me 
the real name of this creature you would marry ? 
Oh, my son, my dear boy, have pity on me, if not 
upon yourself ! Leave this girl, who should have 
been a servant, to her obscurity. Be worthy of 


148 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


your name and race. Do not let this infatuation be 
carried further, I implore you !” 

What the earl would have answered cannot be 
told, for he had but opened his lips to speak when 
the rumble oL wheels was heard upon the drive 
without. 

A minute later the door was flung open, and 
a servant announced : 

“ Lady Trevor and the Marquis of St. Leonards !” 



CHAPTER XIII. 

MYSTERY. 

By the time Lady Trevor and Lord St. Leonards 
entered the drawing-room, Lady Glenham and the 
earl had recovered their composure. There is. 
nothing a well-bred Englishman values more 
highly than the power of self-control. And so, 
when Lady Trevor advanced into the room, pre- 
ceding the marquis by a few paces, the countess 
arose to receive her, paler than usual, it is true, and 
looking a little worn and weary, but calm and smil- 
ing, showing but a single emotion, that of pleased 
welcome. 

Lord Glenham found it more difficult to recover 
himself. He had been stirred to the very deepest 
depths of his nature. His mother’s words, threat- 
ening him with her curse if he should persist in his 
purpose of marrying Cecil Rosse, still rang in his 
ears. There was a little trace of agitation in his 
manner, in spite of his stern effort at self-repres- 
sion, as he, too, advanced and greeted his visitors. 

[H9] 



Edith Trevor s Secret 


150 


“ This is an unexpected pleasure, Edith," said the 
countess, embracing Lady Trevor. “ Gordon was 
intending to ride over to Castle Cliff this morning 
to return Lord St. Leonards’ visit. I am glad to 
see you, my dear old friend,” and she held out her 
hand to the marquis. “ It does me good to see you 
two together.” 

Lord St. Leonards bowed his grand and haughty 
head, but his countenance did not express any cor- 
responding pleasure. He was endeavoring to re- 
concile himself to his granddaughter, but the deep 
displeasure of years was not to be lightly set aside. 
He saw all her faults. There was no tender 
glamour of affection to soften them in his sight. 
He could not forget that she had married against 
his will, and that of her father, a man whom he had 
despised. He could not forget his lingering suspicions 
of foul play on her part towards her little orphaned 
step-sister fourteen years before. He doubted her 
in spite of his efforts to believe in her. When he 
most tried to like her, then the demon of suspicion 
whispered to him the most terrible accusations 
against her. He was unrestful and dissatisfied, yet 
he seriously blamed himself, and was determined to 
conquer his distrust. 

“ If she is the child of that adventuress, she is also 
the child of my own son,” he said to himself more 
than once. “She cannot be so bad as I have 
thought. She seems no worse than other women of 
the world. She loves Lord Glenham, and will make 


Mystery . 


151 


him a good wife, no doubt. If all I sometimes think 
of her be true, then she would be an unfit mate for 
him ; but it can hardly be true — I must have 
wronged her — and I will do well, for his sake as well 
as hers, to endeavor to bring about the marriage.” 

It was with thoughts like these he had come to 
Breezy Lodge upon this morning. 

He watched the meeting between the earl and 
Lady Trevor with keen interest. 

The baronet’s widow had attired herself with more 
than usual care. She wore a carriage dress of dark 
blue velvet and blue silk. Her hat of dark blue 
velvet also was lavishly adorned with canary-colored 
ostrich plumes, and her long gloves were of canary 
color. She appeared at her best ; her brunette com- 
plexion was gently flushed with carmine ; her black 
eyes, usually hard and glittering, were soft and 
bright ; and her smiles were certainly bewitching — 
as they ought to have been ; she had practised them a 
whole hour that morning before her mirror. She 
blushed vividly as she shook hands with Lord Glen- 
ham, and dropped her eyelids, and exhibited a con- 
sciousness and timidity that betrayed her secret to 
the eyes of the countess. 

But the earl showed only the quiet pleasure of a 
friend. He had known her many years. The two 
families were distantly related, and Lord Glenham 
was next in the line of succession to the marquis, so 
the pair had been brought together in a sort of 
brotherly and sisterly intimacy. He liked Lady 


152 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


Trevor ; he had endeavored to reconcile the mar- 
quis to her, but he had never dreamed of making 
her his wife. 

The younger couple sat down near together. The 
elder pair drew near the hearth and conversed in 
low tones, unheard by the others. 

“ You came when we were in the midst of a scene, 
Marquis,” said Lady Glenham, wearily. “ I only 
arrived last night, and I deemed it best to speak to 
my son this morning. His infatuation is complete.” 

“ I am distressed to hear it.” 

“ I have always known that, with his ardent and 
passionate nature, love would be with him the one 
great event of his life,” sighed Lady Glenham. “ He 
had never any boyish fancies. And now, as I had 
forseen, he loves with all his soul. He fairly wor- 
ships that girl, Marquis ; he will never love another 
woman as he loves her. Yet I could bear to dis- 
appoint these dearest wishes of his, since the disap- 
pointment would be for his good.” 

“ My son’s life was wretched for many years 
because he married an adventuress with whom he 
was infatuated. He found her worthless and was 
tired of her in a month’s time, yet he had to bear the 
burden of his fault until death relieved him of her 
claims. If Glenham were to marry this foreign 
woman he would repent it in bitterness of anguish. 
Be firm, Countess, in your opposition to the match.” 

“ I cannot be otherwise than firm. Could I receive 
that adventuress as my daughter ? Shall she rule 


Mystery. 


*53 


in my stead ? Shall she bear the name I have hon- 
ored ?” asked the countess, her proud and haughty 
face hardening in every feature. “No, no. A 
thousand times no !” 

“ There is no doubt that the woman is an adven- 
turess, I suppose ?” 

“ None whatever. She is a low-born creature, and 
was intended by her guardian to be a servant. She 
has a pretty face, that is all. It’s the old story of 
Lord Harry Raven dale’s infatuation over again. 
And Gordon says that if he does not marry her, he 
will never marry at all.” 

“ That is the utterance of passion. It is something 
if he intimates a doubt of his marrying her.” 

“ I threatened to curse him if he made her his 
wife. It’s a frightful thing for a mother to say, is it 
not ? But I have been so proud of him ; I have 
made him my idol, and now if he disappoint me in 
my hopes and wishes, I will never look upon his face 
again. They are a fine pair, Marquis,” she added, 
glancing at the young couple. 

Lady Trevor’s brunette beauty contrasted admir- 
ably with the blond face of the earl. Her raven 
locks appeared blacker by contrast with his close- 
curling rings of fair hair. He looked noble, grand, 
and distinguished ; she handsome, coquettish, and 
bewitching. Even the marquis smiled approvingly 
tpon them. 

“ If only they would like each other,” said the 
countess. “ I have talked to Gordon, now I pray 


i54 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


you to counsel him also. Tell him of your son. 
Tell him of my sorrow and my gray hairs. Plead 
for me as I cannot plead for myself. He may heed 
you, since he knows you can have no prejudice in 
the matter, and as he is the heir to your title you 
have the right to advise and warn him.” 

The marquis bowed a grave assent, and at the 
first pause of consequence in the conversation of the 
younger couple, exclaimed : 

“ I have heard that you have built new kennels 
for your dogs, Glenham, upon some vastly improved 
model. As I think of improving the kennels at St. 
Leonards I would like to see yours, if you will show 
me them.” 

“ With pleasure,” responded Lord Glenham, aris- 
ing with a sensation of relief, and longing for the 
out-door air after his long suppressed excitement. 
“ I designed the kennels myself, and shall like to 
have your opinion upon them.” 

The gentlemen took up their hats and withdrew. 

Lady Glenham was seated in a low chair before 
the fire. Before she could change her position 
Lady Trevor came forward with a rustling, swing- 
ing motion and took a chair beside her. 

“ Shall we talk secrets, Countess ?” asked the 
widow, playfully. “ Grandpapa has told of your 
great trouble,” and now her tone was serious. “ I 
am so sorry — more sorry than I can express,” and 
she drew a long sigh. 

“ You refer to Gordon’s infatuation,” responded 


Mystery. 


155 


the haughty old countess, warming to her visitor. 
“ I cannot bear it, my dear. He must hear to 
reason. He cannot, he must not marry that adven- 
turess. I would rather die than see him the husband 
of that creature.” 

Lady Trevor did not answer, but betrayed an 
agitation she tried in vain to conceal. 

“ I have recently formed new plans, new hopes for 
him,” continued the countess. “ Of course, a mother 
cannot choose a wife for her son, yet if he would be 
guided by me he would bring me a daughter-in-law 
I could respect and like,” she could not say love ; 
“ and not one unworthy the name he would give 
her.” 

Lady Trevor bowed, not seeming to take the 
allusion as personal. 

“ My dear,” said Lady Glenham, turning to her 
abruptly, “help me to save my son from this 
wretched folly he contemplates. Invite his con- 
fidence. Advise him. You must have influence 
with him. Lord St. Leonards will urge him to 
abandon his infatuation, and you, if you will, can 
show him what his friends think of it. Will you aid 
me ?” 

“ I will. Whatever I can do or say to prevent 
his marriage with this foreign woman I will do.” 

“ He has been begging me to go to Germany with 
him to see the girl. If I were to do so I might be 
able to expose her real character to him, but I can- 
not bear even to look on her false, deceitful face.” 


56 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


“ You are sure that she is bad, Countess — that she 
is unworthy of your son ?” 

“ Certainly. If you knew her history I know that 
your opinion would coincide with mine. I know 
that I should fathom her real character and be able 
to unmask her scheming if I could only persuade 
myself to go to Zorlitz — ” 

Lady Trevor recoiled as if galvanized ; her eyes 
starting, her face white, horrified, incredulous. 

The countess regarded her in amaze. 

“ You are ill, Edith — ” 

“ No, no,” said the widow, speaking by a painfu* 
effort, in a strained and husky voice. “ It was the — 
the heat — a spark of fire on my hand — that was all.” 

She moved her chair back a little, averting her 
face from the red glow of the flames so that it 
remained in shadow. 

There was a little pause. The countess’ mind 
had been diverted momentarily from the main cur- 
rent of her thoughts. The widow said, huskily : 

“ You said the girl lived at Zurich ?” 

“ Not at Zurich, but a little village in the Black 
Forest called Zorlitz. It is all out of the world, a 
hamlet where the peasants carve toys and raise and 
train singing-birds. It is out of the way of tourists. 
The villagers never leave their hamlet, and the visits 
of the bird and toy agents once or twice a year are 
the great events of their lives.” 

“ How happened Lord Glenham to go there ?” 
asked Lady Trevor, still in that strained voice, in 


Mystery. 


157 


which a sharper ear than that of Lady Glenham 
might have detected a rising terror. 

“ He set out early in the summer, with Maldred 
Crafton, his inseparable friend, to explore a portion 
of the Black Forest. They desired to find some 
spot where the British tourists had not yet pene- 
trated. They wished to hunt, to find adventures, to 
study the people. Some fatality took them to this 
secluded little hamlet of Zorlitz." 

“ It was indeed a fatality," muttered Lady Trevor, 
inaudibly. “ Oh, Heaven, what does it all mean ? 
What does it mean ?” 

She trembled with excitement, yet she was forced 
to appear calm. 

“ What did you say, my dear ? I did not quite 
catch your words." 

“ I asked the name of the girl he loves." 

“ Her name is Cecil Rosse. At least they call her 
so. Her real name no one knows." 

Again Lady Trevor started, and her eyes were 
wild and her lips bloodless. She put one shaking 
hand to her face. 

“ Is she English ?" she asked in a whisper, speaking 
quickly to prevent the utterance of Lady Glenham ’s 
surprise at her emotion. 

“ She is supposed to be of English birth, but who 
knows what she is ? There is a mystery about her, 
a shameful mystery. I will tell you all, that you 
may understand why I am so bitterly opposed to my 
son’s marriage with her. She has no parents— she 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


1 58 


never had any — no name, no friends, no position, no 
right even to live.” 

Lady Trevor’s hands clenched themselves tightly 
together under the drooping ends of her white lace 
scarf. 

“ How did she happen to be at Zorlitz ?” she asked, 
hoarsely. “ How old is she ?” 

“ Her age is about seventeen, Gordon says, but 
youth is no criterion of innocence, Edith. The girl 
may be a perfect adventuress even at seventeen — 
she is ! Some years ago, I can’t tell how many, and 
it don’t matter, for the girl was but little more than 
a baby, a man appeared at the Zorlitz parsonage one 
dark night with this child in his arms — ” 

“ At the parsonage,” Lady Trevor repeated to 
herself, under her breath. 

“ He told the pastor that the child had no right to 
her existence, and begged the good man to bring 
her up in that secluded hamlet. The pastor’s wife 
accepted the charge, and the man disappeared as 
singularly as he had come. Is it not a mysterious 
story ? The pastor’s wife named the girl after a for- 
mer pupil. There you have the history of Cecil 
Rosse in brief. And my son has fallen in love with 
this girl, and would make her his wife. Do you 
wonder that I cannot bear it ?” 

“ I wonder at the earl. How can he have fallen 
in love with this girl, who was left at the pastor’s 
house, undoubtedly, only because that house had a 
light in it and was near the outskirts of the village ?* 


demanded Lady Trevor, with flashily eyes and 
flushing face. “ How could Lord Glenham, culti- 
vated, accomplished, thoroughly well-bred and well 
educated, how could he have fallen in love with this 
servant, brought up as a peasant ?” 

The countess looked bewildered. 

“ My dear Edith, you mistake,” she exclaimed. “ I 
suppose the marquis has been telling you the story, 
and has got it all wrong. The girl is not a servant — ” 

“ Not a servant ?” cried the widow, her voice ring- 
ing out sharply. 

“ Nothing of the kind. I supposed her a kind of 
peasant, and Gordon explained to me that the pastor 
and his wife had adopted her as their niece, thanks 
to her baby beauty.” 

“ But she must be ignorant ?” 

“ Not so. The pastor had been a tutor in a noble 
family for many years, and his wife had been a gov- 
erness in the same family. His patron procured 
him the pastorate of the little church at Zorlitz, and 
presented him a very good library, as a recompense 
for his years of faithful service. The couple loved 
children and had none of their own. So they 
adopted this girl and brought her up as a lady. 
They taught her English, French and German, 
giving her a thorough education. The pastor’s 
wife taught her music, drawing, painting, and 
embroidery. No daughter of our own nobility has 
had better opportunities than this nameless crea- 
ture has had. The girl is a thorough lady in seem- 


6o 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


ing. How could you think that my son would fall in 
love with an ignorant servant ?” 

“ I beg your pardon, Countess. I thought she 
was that, and that her face was her only charm. 
You said she is beautiftil ?” 

^Gordon says so. I suppose she has a fine com- 
plexion and pretty ways. But having been educated 
as a lady she must long for a different life from that 
at Zorlitz. With her bad blood, she must be schem- 
ing. She has entrapped my son, and he declares 
that he will marry her or die unwedded. If I refuse 
to visit Zorlitz, he intends to go back there himself 
next month, to see her and the pastor.” 

“He will go back ?” said Lady Trevor, breath- 
lessly. 

“ It seems that he asked the pastor’s permission to 
marry the girl, but did not speak to the creature 
herself upon the subject of marriage. He deems it 
his duty to tell this Herr Brocken of my opposition 
and ask his advice. I am very cruelly placed, Edith. 
. As surely as Gordon goes back, the girl will snare 
him into a marriage. I am nearly wild with my 
troubles !” 

The countess was too absorbed in her anxieties 
to notice her companion. Lady Trevor sat in 
shadow, her face white as death, her eyes cold and 
glittering, her mouth set in a hard and cruel expres- 
sion. She looked wicked and terrible, as one 
struggling with an awful terror, and capable of 
committing almost any crime in her agony of des- 



THE GENTLEMAN WAS SEIZED BY TWO RUFFIANS. — See Page 171 































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Mystery . 


1 6 1 


peration. She drew her breath hard, and her hands 
were locked together in a fierce grip that strained 
her gloves at every seam. 

“ Lord Glenham will return toZorlitznext month,” 
she said, huskily. “ A great deal may happen in a 
month !” and her tone was terribly significant. 

“ Gordon will not change, and in a place like 
Zorlitz she cannot find another lover. I see no pros- 
pect of comfort, Edith. I have hope that your 
influence and that of the marquis, added to mine, 
may effect some good — ah, here they come, my 
dear.” 

As the door opened and the gentlemen entered, 
both ladies regarded them anxiously, under cover of 
smiling unconcern. Lady Trevor had not yet recov- 
ered her usual looks, but she had drawn her little 
black-dotted veil over her face, and slight as was 
the screen, it helped to conceal the change in her. 

The old lord looked worn and tired. That he had 
failed in his task, one look at his gloomy eyes, lurk- 
ing sombrely beneath his cavernous white brows, 
could not fail to discover. 

The earl looked troubled, but it was easy to see 
that his love for Cecil Rosse, and his faith in her, 
had not been in the slightest degree affected by 
the pleadings and expostulations of his friend. 
His fair and noble face was slightly clouded, but 
his manner was pleasant as ever 

“ I think, grandfather, that we are making a long 


162 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


visit,” said Lady Trevor, arising. “Our guests 
will think us lost.” 

“Your guests, Edith, not mine,” corrected the 
marquis, moodily. “ I am quite ready.” 

“ You will at least remain long enough for a cup 
of tea, will you not ?” asked the countess, ringing 
the bell. “ Excuse my seeming inhospitality. The 
air is crisp and chilly this morning, and a cup of hot 
drink will do you good.” 

Lady Trevor expressed assent, and resumed her 
seat. The countess ordered refreshments, and a 
tray was brought in, laden with wine and biscuits, 
and a tiny silver tea-kettle and caddy. 

Lady Glenham made the tea herself, and a little 
more cheerful conversation attended its consump- 
tion. Lady Trevor invited the countess and the 
earl, with the lady-guests of the former and the 
gentlemen-guests of the latter, to dine at Castle 
Cliff upon the following day, and the invitation was 
accepted. 

“ I will remain to the dinner,” said the marquis. 
“ I had intended to leave for Inverness in the morn- 
ing, but I will defer my journey a day longer. I 
wish to run up to London for a few days, and shall 
be happy to perform any commissions for you, 
Glenham.” 

“ Thank you, but I have none. Crafton is in town, 
and I expect him back in a day or two,” said the 
earl. “ If you should happen to see him, you might 


Mystery . 


163 


mention to him that he is losing the very best of the 
shooting.'* 

Lady Trevor again arose to take her leave. Her 
adieux were gracefully made, and she pressed the 
hand of the countess, and kissed her affectionately 
at the door of the drawing-room, then taking the 
arm of the earl, who escorted her to the waiting 
carriage. 

When the vehicle was making its laborious descent 
of the mountain Lady Trevor broke the silence, 
saying : 

“ Well, grandfather, how did you succeed ?” 

“ I failed,” was the gruff response. “ Glenham is 
like Harry. He loves the girl and is determined to 
marry her, or never marry any one. It’s a serious 
thing with him, more serious than I thought. I 
can’t reason him out of his madness. He is going 
to Zorlitz next month, and you take my word for it, 
he’ll come back with a wife.” 

Lady Trevor leaned heavily against the carriage 
window, her face pressed to the glass. 

“ He shall never find the girl — never !” she said to 
herself in her heart fiercely. “ If he were to marry 
her I should be ruined. What horrible fatality has 
entangled the earl in my affairs ? I am in deadly 
peril. I must consult Pulford at once, and if another 
crime is necessary for my safety,” and her visage 
again grew terrible, “he shall help me commit it. 
The girl must be got rid of — but how ?” 



CHAPTER XIY. 

AN ADVENTURE. 

Old Gretchen kept her word to Maldred Crafton, 
and lost no time in sounding his praises in the ears 
of her young mistress. The old German woman, in 
the delight of beholding a friendly, well-known face 
in a strange land, and in the glow of pleasure pro- 
duced by his desire to marry Miss Rosse, forgot her 
former aversion to him, imagined that she had 
wronged him in her first estimate of his moral qual- 
ities, and was eagerly desirous of seeing Cecil his 
wife, the mistress of his house, and firmly estab- 
lished in a pleasant and comfortable home, where 
no harm could ever come to her. 

“ If I should die,” she thought, hurrying up the 
stair of their lodgings, after her confidential interview 
with Crafton at the corner of the Crescent, “ Miss 
Cecil would have no one to care for her, or guard 
her. Her beauty would be her bane. Perhaps, as 
Lord Glenham loves another woman and is to be 
married, she may be proud enough to show him 
[164] 


An Adventure . 


j6 5 


that she does not care for him, and may be willing 
to marry Mr. Crafton. She loves me, and may pay 
heed to my persuasions. Poor lamb ! I suppose 
just now she is crying terribly, and even old 
Gretchen could not comfort her.” 

She opened the door of the little parlor softly and 
entered silently. To her surprise, Cecil was sitting 
by one of the windows, busy at her work. The girl 
was very pale, and there was an infinite sorrow 
expressed in the lovely eyes and about the tender 
mouth, but withal she was calm and composed. She 
even smiled — a very faint and wintry sort of smile 
it was, it must be confessed — when she beheld the 
broad face of her old servant. 

“You here, Miss Cecil ?” exclaimed Gretchen. 

“ Yes ; where have you been ?” asked the young 
mistress, carelessly, to put a stop to her inquiries. 

“ To the street corner,” answered Gretchen, boldly. 
“ And I saw Mr. Crafton there. We never did him 
justice, Miss Cecil. He is good and kind, and he 
offered to do anything for you. He says if you need 
a friend you can call upon him as if he were your 
brother.” 

“ He is kind, but I shall not need his friendship. 
Did he say anything more about — about Lord 
Glenham ?” 

“ He mentioned that when his lordship went to 
Zorlitz last summer he was free to marry whom he 
would,” acknowledged old Gretchen ; “so I suppose 
that his lordship was not a bad man in making love 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


166 


to you and asking the Herr Pastor for leave to 
marry you.” 

“ The earl was free last summer ! I knew he 
could not have been false, a traitor to another and to 
me ! I knew it !” And the girl’s face grew radiant 
as the morning, and her eyes shone like suns. “ I 
did not doubt his goodness, Gretchen. I knew that 
he could not have been betrothed to any other when 
he made love to me !” 

“ No, he was not betrothed at that time,” said 
Gretchen, innocently repeating Crafton’s lie. “ He 
had been betrothed, but had quarreled with the 
lady. Then he came to Zorlitz and fell in love with 
you.” 

“ That may be, and he still be honorable.” 

“ He is terribly proud, like all the English nobility, 
and when he told the Herr Pastor of his love, and 
heard that you were a sort of foundling — forgive 
me, Miss Cecil — he returned to England and told his 
mother. She was very angry. Then the lady he 
had been betrothed to made Up the quarrel, and his 
old love for her came back, and they renewed their 
vows, and he will marry her in the course of a few 
weeks. He has forgotten his summer at Zorlitz.” 

“ There you are mistaken, Gretchen,” said Cecil, 
with a sudden passionate quiver of the young mouth. 
“ He has not forgotten Zorlitz, nor me. I will stake 
my life on his faith and nobleness.” 

“What! You don’t believe in his betrothal and 
approaching marriage ?” 


An Adventure . 


167 


“ Yes, I do. But that does not affect the question. 
He was not bound to me. My uncle did not deem 
the marriage suitable, nor do I. He has done well 
to select a wife of his own rank. I could never have 
borne to become his wife and made him the object 
of people’s sneers or pity. I know my history, 
Gretchen, and it is not proper that I should marry.” 

“ Then you did not love Lord Glenham ?” 

The golden glint shone out of the red-brown eyes 
like a glow of sunshine. The exquisite face was 
illuminated by a radiance that fairly dazzled the old 
servant. 

“ Love him !” cried Cecil, with strange pathos 
that contrasted with the ineffable brightness of her 
countenance. “ Love him ! Yes, I do, with all my 
heart and soul. I shall love him till I die, and I 
shall pray for him morning and evening, Gretchen, 
for his welfare and happiness, but I can never see 
him again.” 

“ Perhaps you’ll pray for his betrothed, too ?” 

The brightness fled from the beautiful features. 

“ No, I cannot pray for her,” cried the girl, with 
a pang of jealousy traversing her passionate young 
soul — “ not yet. But I want him to be happy, and 
I don’t believe he will be since he must think of me 
and our parting, and know that he has won my heart 
and left me to suffer. Knowing what I am, he must 
pity me !” 

“ If you don’t want him to think you pining away 
for love of him, why don’t you marry some one else?” 


1 68 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


asked old Gretchen, artfully. “ If you were to 
marry, he couldn’t be worried about you.” 

“ I shall never marry. Who would want me— a 
foundling !” 

“ Some one loves your beautiful face, Miss Cecil, 
and worships the very ground you walk on. He has 
no proud relations to influence him. I mean Mr. 
Crafton.” 

“ He ! You must be mistaken. He does not love 

_ 99 

me. 

“ He does. Can’t I read looks ? He does love 
you, Miss Cecil, and I wish you were safely married 
to him. Why spoil your sweet eyes over such toil ? 
Why remain penned in the house hard at work 
through all the bright days ? Why make of yourself 
an old woman while you are so young ? He would 
take you to travel, would give you horses and a 
carriage, a bright home, and servants to wait upon 
you. Dear Miss Cecil, I wish you would marry him !” 

“ I thought you did not like him, Gretchen.” 

“ I may have said so, but that was nonsense. I do 
like him. It would be a happy day for me that 
would see you his wife.” 

“ It cannot be. He does not know my history ; 
if he did he would not wish to make me his wife. 
Don’t speak, Gretchen. It cannot be. You and I 
will live together always, with no one to come 
between us. It was for your sake I conquered my 
grief, but now I am determined to be brave, to 
bear my sorrow like a woman, not to give way to 


An Adventure. 


169 


tears and complaints. Help me to be brave, 
Gretchen. Don’t speak of Lord Glenham again 
until I can better bear to hear his name. I intend 
to apply myself to work hereafter. Work is said to 
be a remedy for sore hearts.” 

“ Not work with the needle, Miss Cecil. That 
gives one time for brooding over trouble.” 

“ One does not find much time when one is count- 
ing stitches. I wish I could know more of this 
Lady Trevor,” said Cecil, forgetting her resolves 
for the moment in another swift pang of jealousy. 
“ I wonder if I shall ever see her ?” 

She took up her work resolutely and began to 
count her stitches. Gretchen, thinking that she 
had said enough for the present, sat down to her 
task of knitting. She had discovered that she 
could sell fine knitted work, and was determined to 
earn something in that manner. 

The name of Lord Glenham was not mentioned 
by either mistress or servant during that day, nor 
during the week that followed. Cecil put her 
resolves into practice, working early and late upon 
her embroidery. She grew thinner and paler, and 
her eyes seemed larger, and there were often bistre 
circles beneath them that betokened want of sleep. 
Old Gretchen suspected her of crying at night in 
the darkness and solitude of her bedroom. More 
than once the faithful old servant had arisen from 
her bed and crouched by the connecting door 
between the two bedrooms and listened to the 


170 


Edith Trevor's Secret . 


muffled sobs and whispered prayers of the young 
girl, struggling so bravely with her sorrow ; but 
although her own heart swelled, and her own tears 
flowed, she never intruded upon that sacred grief. 

Maldred Crafton called every day for nearly a 
week, then believing that his absence would assist 
his cause even more than his presence in the pres- 
ent state of affairs, he made a parting visit, and 
departed for the Highlands of Scotland, his partic- 
ular destination being Breezy Lodge. 

A day or two after his departure, Cecil sat down 
to her work as usual after supper. The evening 
had closed in early, and although it was not rainy, 
it was very dark and gloomy. 

“ I have only one bud more to work and the 
cloak will be finished," said Cecil. “ It will be off 
my hands in fifteen minutes, Gretchen, and we will 
take it home early in the morning. What is that ? 
The postman’s knock ? There can be no letter for 
me !” 

But there was a letter for her. The house-maid 
came up with a missive, which proved to be from 
Madame Lange, Cecil’s employer. It stated that 
the lady who had ordered the infant’s cloak was 
about to leave town and required it at once. 
Madame Lange desired Cecil to bring the garment 
that very evening if it could be finished, and if not 
to come in person to report progress. 

“ I must go,” said Cecil, resuming her needle. 
“ And you must go with me, Gretchen, of course. 


An Advenhcre . 


171 


How fortunate that the cloak is so near comple- 
tion !” 

A few minutes' work sufficed to finish it. 
Gretchen hastened to enfold it in towels and wrap 
it in paper, and Cecil put on her hat and cloak. 

Both were soon ready, and they set out imme- 
diately by omnibus for Regent street. 

Cecil delivered the cloak, which was greatly 
admired by Madam Lange, and received her pay 
and with it a new commission. Then, parcel in 
hand, she sought the street with Gretchen. 

They walked on in the darkness a little distance. 
The shops were all closed, and the street was filled 
with gloom except in the neighborhood of the gas- 
lamps. Vehicles rattled by, but no omnibus was to 
be seen for the moment. They halted at the next 
corner. 

“ There comes an omnibus," said Gretchen. 

She had scarcely spoken the words when a man 
came running out of the dark street behind them, 
pursued by two ruffians. He was overtaken, 
dragged back and hurled to the ground. 

Cecil, all unused to scenes of violence, stood for 
one moment appalled. Then, comprehending that 
robbery and perhaps murder was in progress, for- 
getting herself, she uttered a wild shriek and flew 
toward the struggling group. 



CHAPTER XV. 

RESCUER AND RESCUED. 

Cecil’s impetuous approach — her wild shriek 
sharply cutting the night air, and even more loudly 
echoed by the terrified Gretchen — was the signal for 
the flight of the would-be robbers. 

They paused for a single instant, as if uncertain 
whether to attack Cecil and her follower, and then 
hearing a policeman’s rattle in Regent street, and 
the sound of hurrying feet, they gave utterance to a 
wild curse, and took to their heels, vanishing in the 
direction whence they had come. 

Cecil flew to the side of their intended victim, all 
pity and horror. He was making an effort to rise. 
She assisted him with all her slender strength, and 
he arose unsteadily to his feet, leaning heavily upon 
her. 

“ Are you faint, sir ?” she asked. “ What shall I 
do ?” 

The gentleman put his hand to his throat, which 
] 172] . 



Rescuer a 7 id Rescued. 173 


suffered from the strangling grip of his assailants. 
For the moment he could not speak. 

Before he could command his voice a policeman 
appeared upon the scene, demanding roughly the 
cause of the “ row.” 

“ I shall take you all into custody,” he exclaimed, 
preparing to flash the light of his bull’s-eye lantern 
upon the group, “ a-kicking up such a scrimmage 
as this ’ere in the public ’ighway — ” 

“ Stop !” said the gentleman, haughtily, his voice 
so stern and authoritative as to awe the “ custodian of 
the law.” “ If you had been on duty, where you 
ought to have been, this thing would not have hap- 
hened. I owe my life to this young lady — and not 
to you !” 

The light of the bull’s-eye flashed upon the little 
group. 

In the glare Cecil beheld the gentleman to whose 
assistance she had so timely come. 

He was tall and commanding, with heavy white 
eyebrows and white mustache, and with the air of 
an old French military officer. His frosty blue eyes 
were flashing like drawn swords ; his face bristled 
with indignation at the attempt upon his life and 
purse, and the policeman quailed before him as if 
he, the officer, had been the assailant. 

“ A pretty state of affairs,” growled the gentle- 
man, “ when a man cannot walk in London streets 
after nightfall without fear of losing his life. Pretty 


i74 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


guardians, these," and he sneered at the policeman, 
“ of life and property !” 

“ If you please, sir," said the officer, “ these ’ere 
robberies ain’t at all frequent. Now and then they 
’appens, and the garroters get penal servitude, and 
the cat besides. A personal assault is al’ays pun- 
ished with the cat." 

“ Small comfort to the garroted person. There’s 
my card, fellow, and now be off." 

The policeman took the card, and read aloud : 

“ The Markiss of St. Leonards. Beg parding, my 
lud, for my rudeness." and he bowed, servilely. “ I 
wish I could find the fellows as attempted to rob 
your ludship. If you will describe ’em, my lud, I’ll 
have London scoured for them — " 

4< I can’t describe them," said Lord St. Leonards, 
impatiently. “ I was coming along this street — it’s 
dark, you see — and I heard two men following me. 
I slackened my pace to let them pass, and they 
sprang upon me like a pair of tigers. I struggled 
with them and made my escape. They overtook 
me, clutched me by the throat, and threw me down. 
But for the heroism of this young lady, who came 
running toward me and calling for help, I shudder 
to think what might have resulted." 

The policeman hastened to pick up Lord St. 
Leonards’ hat, which he restored. The marquis 
held it in his hand while he fixed his regards upon 
Cecil, who stood, pale and trembling, beside him. 

He started at sight of her splendid young beauty, 


Rescuer and Rescued. 


175 


her rare, exquisite loveliness, the glory of her starry 
eyes, her air of perfect high breeding. He thought 
in his heart that he had never looked upon so 
radiant a vision, and the admiration he felt found 
expression in his prolonged and wrapt gaze. 

Presently, recollecting himself, the marquis 
motioned the policeman to move on. Then he him- 
self walked towards the nearest gas lamp in com- 
pany with Cecil and old Gretchen. 

“ May I not know to whom I am indebted for such 
timely rescue ?” he asked, in a tone so respectful 
and deferential that even old Gretchen, who was 
inclined to be suspicious, was satisfied that he was 
the grand nobleman he looked, and quite incapable 
of injuring her darling. 

“ My name,” replied Cecil, with a girlish dignity 
that well became her, “ is Miss Rosse. I am very 
glad to have been of service to you, sir.” 

Lord St. Leonards heard the name without experi- 
encing the slightest suspicion of the identity of its 
owner. The name of Ross is too common to excite 
attention or comment, and it never occurred to him 
that this young lady might spell her name differ- 
ently. The Cecil Rosse of Lord Glenham’s love he 
supposed to be at Zorlitz in the house of the pastor. 
The suspicion that this radiant vision, this high- 
bred girl with the lovely face and pure, sweet eyes 
might be the lady of Glenham’s love, was a wild 
flight of the imagination of which he was simply 
incapable. 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


1 76 


If only some instinct might have warned him of the 
truth ! If only he could have guessed the identity 
of his young rescuer, how many days of bitterness 
and nights of anguish might have been averted ! 

“ I am very grateful to you, Miss Rosse,” he said> 
warmly. “ I do not doubt but that I owe my life to 
you, for those desperate ruffians had determined to 
silence me. Will you permit me to escort you to 
your home ?” 

“ I thank you, my lord, but I am well attended,” 
replied Cecil, courteously. “ And there comes our 
omnibus. I must wish you good-evening, with the 
hope that no serious consequences will follow the 
attack of your assailants.” 

Lord St. Leonards felt a strange, keen, vivid 
interest in Cecil, and experienced a singular reluc- 
tance to lose sight of her. Somehow, the gaze of 
those red-brown eyes thrilled his soul with a pleas- 
ure that was half pain. 

“ The hour is late,” he said, “ too late for a young 
girl like you to be out even with a woman servant. 
I beg you to allow me to attend you to your home, 
Miss Rosse. I am old enough to be your grand- 
father,” and he smiled. “ You will not refuse 
me — ” 

Cecil had signaled the omnibus. 

“ I fear I must, my lord,” she replied, in her clear, 
sweet tones. “ I do not require further attendance. 
Again — good-night !” 

She bowed, and, closely followed by Gretchen, 


Rescuer and Rescued. 


1 77 


climbed into the vehicle, which rolled away, vanish 
ing into the gloom. 

The old marquis watched it out of sight, and 
stood for a long time afterward staring in the direc- 
tion in which it had disappeared. There was a 
strange wistfulness in the expression of his stern 
and haughty face, a singular warmth in his usually 
frosty-blue eyes, a peculiar sadness and longing 
expressed in his closely shut mouth. 

“ The most beautiful girl I ever saw in my life !” 
he thought. “ Her eyes looked straight into my 
soul. My heart warmed and thrilled under her 
glances as it has not warmed for many years. By 
heaven, if she were but poor, and an orphan, I’d 
give all I have to dispose of to adopt her legally as 
my daughter ! But I suppose that she is the petted 
darling of some noble house. That air of exquisite 
high breeding, and that patrician beauty, indicate 
gentle blood. And she had a servant with her. It 
is odd they had no carriage, that they traveled by 
omnibus. I wish I had thought sooner to hail a cab 
and follow them. I wish I had asked her address. 
What a dolt I have been. I shall never see her 
again — never ! How could I have let her go without 
one clew to her home and circumstances ?” 

He shook himself impatiently, and moved on into 
Piccadilly, proceeding toward his own house in Park 
Lane, with a deep sense of annoyance and discon- 
tent at his own oversight in allowing Cecil to thus 
pass beyond his knowledge. 


i ;8 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


The girl returned with her old servant to Queen’s 
Crescent, Bayswater, in silence. She made no allu- 
sion to the evening’s adventure until they were 
again in her little sitting-room. There was a low 
fire in the grate, and Gretchen augmented it by 
piling on more fuel. Cecil removed her wraps and 
sat down before the hearth with her feet on the 
fender, while the old servant placed the little tea- 
kettle on the hob. 

“ We’ll have a cup of tea, liebchett,” she said, pro- 
ducing a loaf of bread from a tiny corner cupboard, 
“ and a slice of toast. You’ve been quite overcome 
with to-night’s adventure. I can see it, even if you 
don’t say anything.” 

“ Gretchen,” said Cecil, softly, her eyes glowing, 
her manner absent and dreamy, “ did you ever see 
a nobler, grander face than that of this English lord, 
the Marquis of St. Leonards ?” 

“Never — never,” responded Gretchen, cutting a 
slice from the loaf and thrusting a fork into it. “He 
is a great man, this marquis !” 

“ Yes,” said Cecil, sighing, “ but his face, his eyes, 
they haunt me, Gretchen. I almost wish I had 
allowed him to come home with me. Something in 
his gaze and his tones went to my heart. I suppose, 
if he knew the truth that I am a foundling, and have 
no right to the name of Rosse, he would despise me. 
These English nobles are so proud !” 

“ It is best that the marquis should know no more 
about you than he knows now,” said Gretchen toast- 


Rescuer and Rescued. 


1 79 


ing her bread and burning her face at the same 
time. “ No one ought to blame you for the faults of 
your parents, Miss Cecil, but they do and they 
always will. The only thing for you to do is to hide 
your history — ” 

“ Or avoid acquaintances," interrupted Cecil, 
proudly. “ I shall do that in any case, Gretchen. 
I am not the equal of these people, and I cannot feel 
myself to be inferior to any one, however well-born 
that one may be." 

“ You’re terribly proud, liebchen. But it is well 
you did not allow the marquis to come home with 
you. You rendered him a service ; he thanked you. 
There the thing should naturally end. Why should 
he come home with you ? He cannot be your friend. 
You do not need a patron.” 

“You are right, Gretchen,” said Cecil, more cheer- 
fully. “ The bread is toasted and the tea is made. 
How cosy it is here. After all, we have a great 
deal to be thankful for.” 

The old servant wheeled a small table beside her 
young mistress, and the little supper was served and 
eaten with a relish. 

Afterwards, when Gretchen sipped her own tea, 
Cecil produced her drawing materials and set to 
work upon a new design, to be copied in raised 
embroidery upon a lady’s opera cloak. This design 
was to be far more elaborate than the work just 
finished, and was to be paid for at the most liberal 
rates. 


i8o 


Edith Trevor's Secret . 


“ It is for a very wealthy lady of fashion,” 
Madame Lange had explained, “ one who does not 
care for the price, but who is extremely difficult to 
suit. If one stitch is set wrongly, she will reject the 
garment. She leaves the design to me, only saying 
that it must be very ornate. Having proved you an 
artist in design, I place the cloak in your hands, and 
wish only to see it when finished. You can take 
your own time, as the lady will spend the present 
month in the Highlands of Scotland and will not 
require it until October.” 

The task was a labor of love to Cecil, who delighted 
in exquisite colorings. 

“ I have the idea, Gretchen,” she exclaimed. “ The 
lady is brunette and the cloak is of rose-colored 
cashmere. I will embroider it with convolvuli in 
thread of silver, with graceful vines and leaves. I’ll 
show you on paper.” 

With a few rapid strokes of her pencil, she pro- 
duced the effect desired. Gretchen expressed her 
admiration and the girl set to work to perfect her 
idea. 

Half the next day was spent in drawing, and then 
the more toilsome task of embroidery began. 

For a week Cecil worked assiduously, early and 
late, and the garment, under her hands, grew into a 
thing of marvelous beauty. 

She was sitting by her window at work late one 
afternoon. The twilight was closing in. The 
shadows were gathering in the corners of the room, 


Rescuer and Rescued. 


1 8 1 


and her eyes were strained by close application. A 
sudden sense of smarting in them made her drop 
her needle, and she leaned back wearily in her chair 
and looked out into the street. 

Groups of people were hurrying by. At the 
opposite house the lights were burning brightly, and 
through the unshuttered windows Cecil could see 
young girls no older than herself sitting at pianos, or 
about the family table, or watching from the windows 
the return of some loved one. Gretchen had gone 
out, and a terrible sense of loneliness came over Cecil. 
She clasped her hands tightly together, and her 
tender young face grew wan and wistful. 

“ I wonder if I shall never have a real home 
again,” she thought. “ I suppose not. I had no 
right to existence — those were the words my 
unknown guardian used — and so I have no right to 
its joys and comforts. I shall never marry, never 
have any one in all the world but Gretchen. It is 
hard,” she thought, rebelliously, her red-brown eyes 
glooming stormily — “ it is too hard ! I am not to 
blame for living. I have done no wrong. Why 
should I not have some pleasures like those girls 
opposite ? Why should I be punished for the sins 
of those who came before me ?” 

The young soul was thus struggling with the 
great problem of existence when the door opened, 
and Gretchen came in with parcels. 

“ In the dark, Miss Cecil ?” she asked. “ And the 
fire almost out ? This is not well. I met the post- 


182 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


man at the door and he gave me a newspaper for 
you.” 

She bustled forward, laid the newspaper in Cecil’s 
lap, lighted the lamp and re-made the fire. 

The young girl examined the wrapping, address, 
and postmark with interest. 

“ From Inverness,” she exclaimed. “ Mr. Crafton 
must have sent it.” 

“ Or Lord Glenham, perhaps. But why should 
any one send a newspaper to you, Miss Cecil ?” 

“ I will see,” responded Cecil, tearing it open. 

The newspaper was a copy of the Court Journal , 
and had been sent by Crafton with a purpose. He 
had made a journey to Inverness to procure the 
paper and to post it. He had caused, during his 
recent stay in London, to be inserted in it a notice, 
false as himself, which was meant for the eyes of 
Cecil Rosse alone. 

The paragraph in question was marked with a 
heavy pen- stroke. Cecil’s gaze was attracted to it 
at once. It read as follows : 

“ A marriage has been arranged, to take place in 
November, between Gordon, Earl of Glenham, and 
Lady Edith, widow of the late Sir Albert Trevor, 
Bart., and granddaughter of the Marquis of St. 
Leonards.” 

That was all. There were similar announce- 
ments above and below it, so that there appeared 
nothing of more importance in this one than in the 


Rescuer and Rescued. 


183 


others. Its crafty author had well planned its 
effect. For one breathless moment Cecil stared at 
it, the black letters dancing on the page, her only 
sensation one of wild incredulity. She had believed 
herself prepared to hear the news of Lord Glen- 
ham’s marriage to another. She had often assured 
herself that all hope was dead within her, but she 
knew now that she had deceived herself. She had 
hoped in spite of all. With a little gasp for breath, 
she arose, staggered across the floor into her inner 
room, and fell upon the bed faint as death. 

“ It is all over !” she thought. “ All over at last ! 
And I — what will become of me ? Grant, oh ! 
Heaven, that whatever I may suffer, he may be 
happy !” 



CHAPTER XVI. 

PULFORD ON THE TRACK. 

Upon arriving at Castle Cliff, after her visit to 
Lady Glenham at Breezy Lodge, Lady Trevor has- 
tened directly to her boudoir, flung off her bonnet 
and jacket, dismissed her maid, and rang her bell 
loudly, ordering a servant to send Mr. Pulford to 
her at once. 

She was pacing the floor impetuously when her 
suitor appeared, her brows black as a thunder-cloud, 
her lips compressed, her manner indicative of the 
keenest anxiety and suppressed terror. 

Mr. Pulford came in smiling and sleek, as usual, 
his florid face the incarnation of good nature, his 
hands stroking his sandy beard complacently. His 
smiles and complacence, however, vanished at sight 
of Lady Trevor's agitation. 

“ What’s the matter ?” he asked. “ What has gone 
wrong ? Has your maid stolen your diamonds, or — " 

Lady Trevor turned upon him abruptly, her hard 
black eyes feverish in their burning gaze. 

[184] 


Ptilford 07 i the Track. 185 


“ I have promised to be your wife, Horace Pul- 
ford," she exclaimed. 

“ And you want to throw me over, is that it ?" 
interrupted Pulford, savagely. “ You have been to 
Breezy Lodge, have seen Lord Glenham, and want 
to back out of your engagement to me." 

“ No ; don’t be a fool !" cried the widow, impa- 
tiently. “ I meant to say that I am your promised 
wife, therefore our interests are one." 

“ That is a self-evident truth." 

“You have threatened me that if I refuse to 
marry you, you will send me to prison." 

“ Why recall words your obstinacy compelled me 
to utter ? You have not refused — let the words of 
threatening be forgotten." 

“ Suppose I were poor, disgraced, in prison, what 
then ? Would you befriend me ?" demanded Lady 
Trevor, feverishly. 

“ You suppose an impossibility. Who can dis- 
grace you, or cast you into prison — except me ? Are 
you contemplating the idea of throwing me over ?" 
again demanded Pulford, suspiciously. “ Do you 
propose testing my power ?" 

“ If I am false and unscrupulous, you are no bet- 
ter," cried Lady Trevor, not heeding his questions. 
“ We are in one boat, Horace Pulford. We sink or 
swim together." 

“ You puzzle me — " 

“ I am in danger. I am threatened with a mortal 
peril !" ejaculated Lady Trevor, pausing before 


i86 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


him, dark and desperate. “ I need your help, or 1 
am utterly lost and ruined !” 

“ Are you mad ?” 

“ Not yet, but I shall be unless something be done 
immediately,” cried Lady Trevor. “ Do you know 
who this girl is whom Lord Glenham loves — this 
Cecil Rosse whom he is determined to marry ?” 

“ How should I know ? An adventuress per- 
haps — ” 

“ Listen. She is of English birth, and he found 
her at Zorlitz.” 

Pulford started, recoiling two or three paces. 

“ At Zorlitz ?” he echoed, incredulously. 

“ At Zorlitz,” repeated Lady Trevor. “ Is it not 
a horrible fatality ? You know, of course, who she 
is !” 

“ You must be mistaken. Lord Glenham could 
never have fallen in love with a servant. Not even 
a pretty face could tempt the fastidious earl to for- 
get an uncultivated mind, peasant manners, and 
coarse, ignorant — ” 

“You mistake. The girl is not a servant. She 
has been brought up as a lady.” 

Pulford uttered a malediction. 

“ Why was the girl left at that house instead of one 
of the peasants’ dwellings ?” demanded Lady Trevor, 
resuming her rapid walk. “ The pastor and his wife 
had been teachers. The old habits were strong 
upon them ; the girl must have been bright and apt, 
and they taught her all accomplishments, as well as 


Pul ford on the Track. 


1 87 


the more solid branches of education ; and to-day 
she is able to take her place in English society and 
do honor to Lord Glenham’s choice. He is deter- 
mined to marry her. He will bring her to England ; 
Lord St. Leonards will see her. I am lost, Pulford, 
utterly lost and ruined !” 

A wild groan was wrung from her tortured breast, 
and her despairing face grew wilder in its terror. 

“ You are sure, Edith, very sure — ” 

“ Lady Glenham told me the whole story this 
morning, that the girl’s origin was a mystery — and 
all the rest of it. In the shock of discovering who 
was the girl whom Lord Glenham loves I nearly 
betrayed myself. Had the countess not been unsus- 
picious she must have detected in my agitation my 
previous knowledge of the girl. To think that she 
is my rival in the earl’s love — she — ” 

“ You forget that you are speaking to your prom- 
ised husband,” said Pulford, dryly. 

“ I did forget it. Yet, although I shall marry you, 
if I can surmount this peril, still I cannot forgive 
the one who has won the heart I coveted !” cried 
Lady Trevor, fiercely. “ What is to be done, Pul- 
ford ? The earl will go next month to Zorlitz, and 
he will bring the girl away as his wife. I have only 
a month of safety, only a month of enjoyment of 
this wealth, to gain which I risked my soul. Once 
let Lord St. Leonards meet the girl and hear her 
story, once let suspicion be aroused, and I shall kill 
myself. I will never be sent to prison — never. I 


1 88 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


will never be disgraced. I will rather die by my own 
hand !” 

“ You are too excitable, Edith/' declared Pulford, 
regaining his coolness and self-possession. ‘‘You 
are too cowardly ever to have been concerned in a 
great crime. According to your own story, there 
remains a month of safety. In that time we can 
easily secure the future !” 

“ But we must not kill the girl !” said Lady Tre- 
vor, in a sibilant whisper, halting before him. “ I 
have committed crime enough ; I will not have 
murder on my soul !” 

“ She need not die — unless we are driven to utter 
desperation. She must be removed from Zorlitz 
and placed beyond Lord Glenham’s reach forever. 
That must be attended to immediately." 

“ And who will do it ?” 

“ I will. Your interests and mine are now one, as 
you have said. I have planned ever since Sir 
Albert’s death a marriage with you, Edith. I have 
looked forward to sharing your ill-gotten wealth, to 
becoming an influential member of society, to being 
a man of fashion, and I would commit any crime 
rather than give up my prospects now that they are 
so near realization. I shall start to-morrow morning 
for Zorlitz.” 

Looking into his sinister countenance, all aglow 
with wicked resolve, Lady Trevor felt a thrill of 
reviving hope. 

“ Save me, Horace,” she exclaimed, “ and all / 


Pulford on the Track. 


189 


have shall be yours. I will marry you just as soon 
as she is out of my way, so that I shall have no fear 
of her.” 

“ Then you will marry me next week. The girl 
shall be safely disposed of before that time. You 
must be careful to maintain your courage. If you 
give way before the marquis, his keen eyes will 
detect something wrong, and he may get upon the 
track of your secret.” 

“ What shall you do with her ?” asked Lady Tre- 
vor, in a whisper. 

“ I have formed no plan as yet. The thing has 
come upon me too suddenly. I shall determine upon 
some plan before I arrive at Zorlitz. Trust in me. 
It is my fortune that is at stake as well as yours, 
Edith ; my future is imperilled with yours. Leave 
all to me !” 

“ I know that I can trust you ! Good heavens ! 
what should I do in this peril but for you ?” cried the 
widow, shuddering. “ Who could have foreseen that 
the pastor and his wife would have adopted and edu- 
cated the girl after hearing that she was nameless 
and parentless ? There is a fate in this, Horace, and 
a fear comes over me that fate may be stronger 
than we !” 

“ Nonsense. We shall conquer fate, Edith. As 
easily as you swept aside an obstacle once you can 
do so now. What trembling creatures women are 
when a bold work is to be done ! Leave all to me 
and trust me ! Now, come and sit by me before the 


190 Edith Trevor s Secret, 


fire. Tell me all yon heard this morning, just as you 
heard it. Throw all the light on my task which you 
can before I go !” 

“ I can’t sit down. I am all on fire within. But 
I’ll tell you what I heard,” replied the baronet’s 
widow. 

She paced the floor with hurried steps while she ! 
rehearsed the confidences the countess had imparted 
during her morning visit. Pulford listened atten- , 
tively, lying back at his ease in a chair before the 
hearth. 

“ I think I won’t wait till to-morrow morning,” 
he said, when she had finished. “ I have caught 
your impatience, and will start to-day, within the 
hour. The yacht might take me down the coast, 
but I can go more quickly by crossing the country 
on horseback to Inverness.” 

He arose and they exchanged a few words in part- 
ing. Then he sauntered carelessly out of the room, 
and fifteen minutes later Lady Trevor, watching 
from her window, saw him riding away from the 
castle. 

As he began the descent of the rugged road, he 
halted, wheeled in his saddle, and waved his hat to 
her. He could not see her at her window, but knew 
very well that she must be watching, and the flutter 
of her white handkerchief responded to his signal. 
Then he started forward, disappearing from her 
view. 

“ I hope that he will arrive in time, and that he 


Pulford on the Track 


191 


will be successful/’ Lady Trevor said to herself. “ I 
know him so well — if he deems the girl dangerous 
he would as lief kill her as a snake. But the guilt 
will not be mine if he does kill her. And I should 
feel safer if she were dead. I am afraid that I shall 
never know a minute’s peace again while she lives. 
I had deemed her so safe in peasant obscurity and 
ignorance. But an educated person is so much 
more to be dreaded. If he deem violence necessary 
I shall not be sorry. And now I must keep up my 
mask of gayety and light-heartedness.” 

She descended to luncheon at the usual hour, and 
not a trace of her secret perturbation was to be 
seen upon her brunette face. 

She devoted herself to the old marquis, who 
repulsed rather than encouraged her. Determined 
to win his favor, she fawned upon him until he, 
detecting her insincerity, sickened of her, and 
retreated out of doors into the park. 

During the afternoon she shut herself up in her 
boudoir, but at dinner she was unusually gay. 
Some one remarked upon Mr. Pulford’s absence, 
and she explained that he had been recalled to 
England upon important business, and would return 
within a week. She again devoted herself to Lord 
St. Leonards, and he, unable to conquer his aversion 
towards her, retired to his own apartment as soon 
as he could do so without rudeness. 

The next day was that appointed for the dinner 
party. The Earl of Glenham, the countess, and 


192 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


their guests, arrived in good time, and everything 
passed off happily. The baronet’s widow was 
especially fascinating, and tried all the little arts 
she had found of use to her heretofore in society to 
win Lord Glenham’s admiration and affection. Her 
toilet was exquisite, her jewels sumptuous. Her 
beauty was at its best. Her maid had exercised her 
choicest skill in touching up her ladyship’s eyes and 
complexion with carmine, and bella-donna, and 
kohl, and various other cosmetics, and the hard, 
black eyes had been made to assume a soft and 
languishing expression, and the rouged lips wore a 
soft, alluring smile that many men would have 
found irresistible. But Lord Glenham was proof 
against all these fictitious charms. The memory of 
Cecil’s splendid young beauty, her red-brown eyes 
with the golden glint in them, the red-brown hair 
with the golden glimmer, the slender, young shape 
with its lithe grace, the rare and perfect loveliness, 
was in his memory by day and by night, and in 
comparison with Cecil the widow seemed coarse 
and commonplace. 

When the party broke up and the guests 
departed, Lady Trevor knew that her arts had been 
all in vain. 

“ But he shall never marry the girl,” she said to 
herself, setting her teeth hard together, “ and he 
shall marry me ! Let Pulford serve my turn and 
rid me of the girl and I will rid myself of Pulford 
remorselessly, even if to do so I commit an awful 


Pulford 07 i the Track. 


193 


crime !” and she shuddered and grew pale under her 
rouge. 

A friendly intimacy was established between 
Castle Cliff and Breezy Lodge. The Countess 
Glenham and Lady Trevor were together every 
day. The earl visited the castle often, but it was 
quite clear that he came only as a friend and not as 
a lover. 

The day after the dinner party, the old Marquis 
of St. Leonard’s, attended by his servant, left the 
castle in the carriage in which he had come from 
Inverness, on his return to that place. He jour- 
neyed on to London, disheartened and discouraged, 
not having been able to move Lord Glenham from 
his allegiance to Cecil Rosse, and feeling more than 
ever a repulsion to the granddaughter whom he 
hoped to see the wife of the young earl. 

It was" on the evening of the day after his arrival 
in London that he met the adventure in which Cecil 
Rosse had so opportunely come to his relief. 

Lady Trevor, after the lapse of a few days, began 
to look for news from Pulford. The journey to 
Inverness was some sixty miles, and a groom 
occupied a full day in going and a full day in 
returning, with relays of horses upon the route, 
She detailed three grooms to this especial service, 
sending one every day in succession, but it was 
more than a week before her anxiety was relieved 
by the arrival of the looked-for letter. It came at 


i 9 4 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


last, and she retired to her room to read it in 
solitude. 

“ Good news, I hope !” she muttered. “ How I 
tremble ! I am sure that Pulford has killed her. 

I know him so well. He has made all sure !” 

She tore open the envelope. The letter read as 
follows : 

Zorlitz, Sept. 10th , 1874. 

“ My Dear Edith : — As you see by the above 
address, I am in the depths of the Black Forest, in 
the very village we remember so well. Prepare 
yourself for bad news. 

“ The pastor, Herr Brocken, in whose care the 
girl was left, is dead. Frau Brocken is dead also, 
her death having preceded his by a year or so. If 
Lord Glenham knew of the pastor’s death, he would 
fly to this place on the wings of love to befriend the 
girl left desolate and alone. 

“ But if he came he would not find her. The girl 
is gone ! Worse still, she has gone to England. 
No one can give me her address. An old German 
servant went with her. 

“ Imagine my consternation at this complication 
of affairs. The girl in England— escaped from this 
obscurity — educated and intelligent — we have the 
most serious cause for alarm. There must be, as 
you say, some fate in this thing, but as I declared to 
you, I shall conquer fate, 

“ You are aware that Maldred Crafton, Lord Glen- 


Pulford on the Track. 


*95 


ham’s especial friend and toady, quitted Breezy 
Lodge on business upon the very day after his 
arrival there. Well, he came secretly sneaking 
back here to make love to the girl when Glenham 
should be safely out of the way. He found that the 
pastor had died and the girl had gone to England, 
and he followed after her, although, of course, he 
could not obtain her address. 

“ Our difficulties, you thus see, are increased. 
The girl has two lovers. The earl is open and 
above board, an honorable gentleman, but I have 
my doubts of Crafton. Can he suspect anything ? 
He is trying to win the girl secretly from his friend. 
Does he fancy that he possesses a clew to the mys- 
tery of Cecil Rosse ? All this I must discover. 

“ I do not attempt to conceal from you the fact 
that new perils have sprung up in our path, in the 
girl’s departure to England and Crafton’s pursuit of 
her. But you do not know me if you think me 
daunted by this new aspect of affairs. Trust in me, 
Edith. I shall be more than a match for them 
altogether. One thing should reassure us — Crafton 
is as ignorant of the girl’s new address as I am. I 
will find her before he can and make all things sure. 

“ I start for London to-night, and as I shall travel 
as fast as the mail I shall post this letter there. I 
I may be detained in town some days. Write me at 
your town house, and let me know if Crafton has 
returned to Breezy Lodge. You might question him 
artfully and see if he has any suspicions of the truth. 


196 Edith Trevor s Secret . 


and if he has a clew to the girl’s present whereabouts ; 
but beware of exciting his suspicions as to your 
interest in the matter. He is as keen as a briar. 

“ In haste, your lover. 

“ Horace Pulford.” 






CHAPTER XVII. 

A STRANGE ALLIANCE. 

Crafton imagined, when he had procured the 
insertion in the Court Journal of the announcement 
of an engagement of marriage between Lord Glen- 
ham and Lady Trevor, that he had given the death- 
blow to any lingering hope that Cecil Rosse might 
have cherished in the depths of her soul that the 
man who had won her love might return to her. 
So far he had judged correctly. But he also 
thought that, in her bitterness of disappointment, in 
her desolation and despair, Cecil might turn to him, 
Crafton, for comfort. He knew that old Gretchen 
had been won over to his cause, and that she would 
lose no opportunity to sing his praises. He had 
told the old woman that he loved her young mis- 
tress, and desired to marry her ; that he would give 
her a luxurious home, servants to wait upon her, 
and everything she might desire. He had yet to 
learn that bribes like these cannot win a girl’s 
heart. 


[i97] 


198 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


“ The old woman is on my side/* he said to him- 
self, on his return to Breezy Lodge from Inverness, 
after dispatching to Cecil’s address the newspaper 
with the lying notice he had caused to be inserted 
in it. “ The girl is sure to tire of toil after a little. 
I will take care not to be too precipitate in my pro- 
posal to her. I’ll play the disinterested friend, the 
lover who expects nothing, but ventures to worship 
at her shrine, until the edge of her grief is worn off, 
and then will be my opportunity. She is proud ; I’ll 
make her pride serve me. If I play the game well, 
I shall win her. Only patience is required. I must 
not make my great and final move too soon !” 

He arrived at Breezy Lodge at noon upon the 
second day after leaving Inverness. 

The gentlemen were all gone out upon a shooting 
expedition. Lady Glen ham, with her two or three 
especial friends, was still at the Lodge, having 
deferred her departure from the Highlands. The 
haughty lady was exceedingly miserable. She had 
been unable to obtain any promise from her son 
that he would give up all hope of marrying Cecil 
Rosse, and she had resolved not to leave him until 
she had obtained such a promise. Crafton heard 
the voices of the countess and her guests in the 
morning-room as he traversed the hall and mounted 
the grand staircase, and he smiled and said to him- 
self : 

“ My lady is scarcely aware how she has been try- 
ing to play into my hands. Glenham has had a 


A Strange Alliance. 


199 


hard time of it between his filial affection and his 
love for Cecil. But his love will triumph. It is not 
in nature for a man of twenty-eight, who has never 
before loved, to give up the passion of his life for 
his mother’s senseless whim. He reverences Lady 
Glenham, but he won’t permit her to stand between 
him and the girl he loves. He’d be a foql if he did, 
since my lady obstinately refuses to go to Zorlitz, or 
show any reason in her opposition. And yet the 
countess is right, too. A nameless foundling is not 
a fit match for the Earl of Glenham, who will in 
time be doubly a peer, when he becomes Marquis of 
St. Leonards.” 

He opened his door and passed into his chamber. 
It was chilly and dark, and he hastened to change 
his garments and descend to the dining-hall. Here 
a luncheon was served to him by the old butler, and 
he then retired to the smoking-room to indulge in a 
cigar. 

This room — a favorite haunt with the earl’s guests 
— was a long apartment occupying a wing of the 
dwelling. It was furnished in old-fashioned, sub- 
stantial style, and the walls were hung with fowl- 
ing-pieces, deers’ antlers, and other insignia and 
trophies of the chase. A centre-table was laden with 
china jars of Latakia tobacco, pipes of every descrip- 
tion in racks, boxes of cigars, taper stands, and vari- 
ous other paraphernalia necessary to the luxurious 
enjoyment of the odorous weed. 

“ Pity Glenham don’t smoke,” said Crafton to him- 


200 


Edith Trevor's Secret . 


self, drawing up a lounging chair to the table, and 
selecting a cigar with great care from the different 
sorts displayed. “ A little vice of this sort stands 
in the place of big ones very often. I know I have 
dissipated an uncommon lot of viciousness in these 
puff s of smoke. It was my idea, having a room especi- 
ally for smoking, and as I prevailed on Glenham 
to make this concession to hospitality, I certainly 
ought to have the chief benefit of it/' 

He lighted his cigar and began to smoke, reclin- 
ing in his chair in a lazy attitude. 

He had scarcely become absorbed in his medita- 
tions when a rap was heard upon the door, and Lady 
Glenham came in. 

Crafton sprang up on the instant, tossing his 
cigar into a bronze receiver. 

“ Don’t let me disturb you, Mr. Crafton,” said the 
countess. “ Pray resume your cigar. The butler 
told me that you had returned from Inverness. Did 
you perform the commissions I entrusted to you ?” 

“ Yes. I matched the Berlin wools and gave them 
to a servant to hand to your maid.” 

He placed a chair as he spoke and the countess 
sank into it. He noticed that she was looking worn 
and troubled. The haughty face was colder and 
sterner than usual in its expression ; her cold blue 
eyes looked dim, as if she had shed many tears of 
late. 

“ I beg you sit down, Mr. Crafton,” she said, draw- 
ing a little nearer to the fire. “ My son is gone out, 


A Strange Alliance, 


201 


and I desire to have a little private conversation 
with you.” 

Crafton bowed and resumed his seat. 

‘‘You have been away a great deal since we 
arrived at Breezy Lodge, 0 said the countess, “ and 
may not be aware of the reason of my visit here. 
You see that I take it for granted that Gordon would 
have told you if he had had opportunity for much 
private confidence.” 

“ .1 have the honor to be in Lord Glenham’s con- 
fidence, Countess,” replied Crafton, respectfully, 
“ and I do know the reason of your visit to Breezy 
Lodge.” 

“You do ? Then you also know of my failure in 
the purpose for which I came ? I have desired to 
speak freely to you, Mr. Crafton. You are connected 
with our family, and are the distant kinsman of my 
son. He has always regarded you as a brother. You 
have great influence with him. I desire to enlist that 
influence to further my cause. It is hard for a 
mother to confess that her influence with her son is 
not supreme and all-powerful, is it not ?” 

“ I cannot pretend to misunderstand you, Coun- 
tess,” said Crafton. “ Your son has fixed his affec- 
tions upon a girl of obscure family — ” 

Lady Glenham interrupted him with dignity. 

“ Let us state facts,” she exclaimed. “ He has 
fixed his affections, as you term it, upon a girl of no 
family whatever, whose only heritage is disgrace, a 


202 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


girl without any name of her own, who does not 
know her origin, who is a living mystery !” 

Crafton started. It will be remembered that he 
knew nothing whatever of Cecil’s history, and 
believed her to be actually the niece of Herr 
Brocken, the earl having never imparted to him the 
confidence of the pastor concerning her. 

“ You must be mistaken, Countess — ” he began. 

“ You cannot help Gordon’s cause by feigning 
ignorance of the truth,” said Lady Glenham, severely. 
“ My son told me the whole story, how the child 
was brought to the pastor’s house years ago, and 
adopted by Herr Brocken and his wife. How the 
man who came with her desired her to be brought 
up as a servant. How nothing was ever seen or 
heard of the man afterwards. He sent, it is true, 
once a year, fifty pounds in Bank of England notes 
without word or comment, but he never wrote or 
came to see if the child lived. The truth is, he 
wanted her to die. No, Mr. Crafton, the girl is 
entirely English by birth, it cannot be doubted, and 
no relation whatever to the family that adopted 
her.” 

It may be imagined that this story startled 
Crafton, but he did not doubt its verity. 

“ And whoever she is,” continued the countess, 
“ she is not fit to be my son’s wife. Perhaps her 
disreputable relations are living. Suppose, if my 
son ^narried her, that those relations should turn up 
to blackmail us ? The whole thing is too horrible.” 


A Strange A Ilia nee. 


203 


Crafton was silent, digesting the singular story he 
had heard, and careful not to betray that it was 
perfectly new to him. 

Lady Glenham was also silent for some minutes, 
endeavoring to regain her self-possession. Pres- 
ently she said : 

“ I came, not to repeat the particulars of the girl’s 
disgraceful history, but to ask you some questions 
about the girl herself. Is she very beautiful ?” 

“ As beautiful as an angel, madam !” declared 
Crafton, deeming it best to tell the truth, since 
Lady Glenham might possibly see Cecil some day 
herself. 

“ I supposed that she was beautiful. Gordon 
loved her for her face, I dare say,” remarked Lady 
Glenham, bitterly. “ I knew that the girl must 
have some extraordinary charm to win his love 
when so many lovely women have failed even to 
attract him. She is well educated, Gordon says.” 

“ Thoroughly well educated. She is a genius, 
too, in drawing and painting, and has a marvelous 
talent for design,” said Crafton. “ She has a talent 
also for music, is bright and sweet and charming, 
well-bred — ” 

“In short, a feminine Admirable Crichton!” 
interrupted the countess, with a little sneer. “ Your 
enthusiasm in regard to her is scarcely less than 
that of Gordon. I wonder that you, too, are not 
her lover.” 

Crafton’s face flushed hotly. 


204 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


“ 1 see !” cried the countess. “ You do love her ? 
You are Gordon’s rival ?” 

“ No, Countess, not the earl’s rival !” declared 
Crafton, energetically. “ It is true that I admire 
Miss Rosse, but I should never dare raise my eyes 
to the lady whom Lord Glenham wishes to marry. 
I should never forget for an instant that I am his 
trusted friend. Besides,” he added, “ who would 
look at me when he is near ? He is an earl, and 
will be a marquis besides, immensely rich, hand- 
some as a Greek god. And I am only a common- 
place person with six hundred a year, his friend, it 
is true, but a very humble satellite compared to the 
sun I attend. No, madam, I could never contem- 
plate an act of treachery to one I love !” 

‘‘Nonsense, Mr. Crafton. Is it ‘treachery’ to 
save him from an unsuitable alliance ? No, it is 
rather the work of a true and noble friend. This 
girl is not suitable to be your wife ; how much less 
is she suitable to the Earl of Glenham and future 
Marquis of St. Leonards ? The men of our family 
have always married rank. I cannot bear that my 
son should insult me so cruelly as to give me this 
creature as my daughter-in-law. I feel the disgrace 
the more keenly, because I know that he will repent 
the misalliance as Lord Harry Ravendale repented 
his. But you have no title to sustain, no f riends to 
consult. You can marry the girl, if you choose, 
Mr. Crafton.” 

“ She does not love me. She does love the earl — ” 


A Strange A lliance . 


205 


“ You mean she loves his rank and wealth. Have 
you ever asked her to be your wife ?" 

“Never, madam. I could not be so treacherous 
to my friend." 

“.I thought I had disposed of that idea of treach- 
ery. I should consider you a good friend to my son 
if you would marry Miss Rosse yourself. Listen to 
me, Mr. Crafton. There is scarcely anything I would 
not do to save him from this marriage. If you will 
persuade Miss Rosse to marry you, I will settle an 
income of four hundred a year upon her for life. 
That amount, added to your own income, will render 
you independent, especially as you have a handsome 
country house." 

Crafton’s heart gave a quick bound. The offer 
was very tempting. He loved Cecil with a consuming 
passion. The mystery regarding her origin did not 
tend in the faintest degree to check the ardor of his 
pursuit. He could afford to gratify his own wishes. 
He had no lofty rank to maintain, no relatives to 
consult. He regarded the countess keenly and fur- 
tively, while he hesitated. 

“ I cannot offer you a bribe, Mr. Crafton," said 
Lady Glenham, marking his hesitation, “ and you 
must not consider my offer to portion Miss Rosse in 
the light of a bribe. It would only be an offering 
of gratitude. I should be happy to receive your 
wife on equal terms upon all occasions, and I 
should never cease to be grateful to you." 

“ The earl would never forgive me." 


206 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


“ He would in time. He will marry another lady 
after his first anger against you and Miss Rosse has 
ceased, and years from now will laugh to think how 
he was out-generalled in his first love affair. Sup- 
pose he does not forgive you ? Will not the lady be 
sufficient recompense for the loss of his friendship ?” 

“ Now we return to our first difficulty. I cannot 
hope that she will marry me, after loving the earl.” 

“ If she were to know her love for him to be hope- 
less, she would marry you, I am sure. Has she 
pride ?” 

“ As much as yourself, Countess.” 

“ That is strange. 1 might go to her and tell her 
that I would never consent to receive her as my 
son’s wife. I might set the matter before her in 
such a light that, if she has the pride of a true 
woman, she would rather die than enter a family 
where she would be unwelcome and despised. I 
think I might have managed the case better. I will 
consent to see Miss Rosse. My son shall take me 
to Zorlitz next month.” 

Crafton was well aware that if the earl and 
countess should visit Zorlitz, his own recent visit to 
the same place would be detected, but it was not 
yet time for him to confess it. He therefore kept 
his own counsel. 

“ You have not yet given me your answer to my 
proposition, Mr. Crafton,” said LadyGlenham. “ If 
I assure you that in marrying Miss Rosse you do 
my son a great service, you can no longer hesitate. 


A Strange Alliance . 


207 


You love this girl, and I will help you to win her. 
Shall not this be a compact between us ?” 

Crafton held out his hand. 

“You persuade me against n^self, against my 
friendship to your son, against my very principles !” 
he exclaimed, with a fine assumption of superior 
virtue. “ I love Miss Rosse with all my soul. The 
dower you would give her would render my income 
ample for our wants. And as you think I would be 
doing right, I will enter the lists as her suitor.” 

Lady Glenham grasped his hand in unaffected 
fervor of gratitude. In her desire to save her son 
from a marriage she loathed and detested, her 
naturally fine sense of honor was blunted, and she 
failed to see her share of the compact in its true 
light. 

“ I thank you !” she ejaculated, with tears in her 
eyes, her haughty lips quivering. “ I shall bless you 
while you live if you succeed. And you must suc- 
ceed. Miss Rosse must be made to understand that 
the earl cannot make her his wife. I can help you 
in this, and I will.” 

“ We will talk further upon the subject,” remarked 
Crafton, as she arose and he followed her example. 
“ Rest assured, if I can win Miss Rosse I will lose 
no time in doing so.” 

“ I wish you would go to Zorlitz before we do ; 
but perhaps it will be best that you should wait 
until after I see her. Do not be too precipitate, lest 


208 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


you ruin everything. Hark ! is not that the earl’s 
voice ? I must go.” 

She composed her features and swept out of the 
room, while Crafton relighted his cigar, resuming 
his seat. 

In the great hall Lady Glenham encountered her 
son. 

“ Is anything wrong, Gordon, that you are home 
so early ?” she asked, with quick anxiety. 

“ Nothing, except that I became separated from 
the others, bagged a quantity of game, and decided 
to return to the Lodge,” said Lord Glenham, putting 
his arm around his mother’s waist and leading her 
into the morning-room. “ I thought that Crafton 
might have returned. What has happened, mother ? 
You look happier than I have seen you of late.” 

“ Mr. Crafton has returned, Gordon — ” 

“ And these smiles are for him ? Why, I thought 
you did not like him overmuch.” 

“ People make mistakes sometimes, Gordon. I 
like Mr. Crafton very well indeed. But the smiles 
are not on account of his return. I have just had 
some conversation with him. I asked him about 
Miss Rosse. I could never bear to speak to him of 
her before.” 

“ You asked him — what 5 ” 

“ About her beauty, goodness and talent.” 

“ And he said—” 

“ That she was beautiful as an angel, lovely, sweet 


A Strange Alliance, 


209 


and good,” sighed Lady Glenham. “ He can hardly 
find words enough to praise her.” 

The earl’s blond and noble face glowed. 

“ I could not have expected him to say less,” he 
exclaimed. “ He is a good and true friend, mother, 
God bless him !” 

The countess winced. She had as high a love of 
truthfulness as any one ; she detested a falsehood 
in whatever shape ; she scorned a liar and a traitor. 
She had excused the part she had taken during her 
conversation with Crafton, saying to herself that “ all 
was fair in love and war,” and that she was justified 
in opposing secretly her son’s wishes, and scheming 
to circumvent them. But now, looking into those 
honest gray eyes, so warm and loving, so truthful 
and tender, she hated herself and the part she had 
undertaken. Better, a thousand times better, the 
part ^>f open enemy than that of secret traitor. 

But she said to herself that she could not turn 
back in the course on which she had entered. She 
had made her son’s friend her confederate and 
fellow-traitor, nothing remained but to go on in 
her distasteful work. 

“ I must tell you, Gordon, that all Mr. Crafton 
said, or could say,” she exclaimed, hastily, “ does 
not affect my decision never to receive Miss Rosse as 
my daughter-in-law. She may not be an adven- 
turess. She may be good and honest, but none the 
less is she unfit to be your wife. I cannot forget her 
origin. I think you foolish, mad even, in your love 


2 IO 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


for her. But we won’t go over the old ground 
again. You have heard my arguments until you 
know them by heart. I only wish to say,” and the 
proud, gray head drooped and the stern and haughty 
face was averted, “ that I consent to your visit to 
Zorlitz next month.” 

“ Mother—” 

“And I will go with you, Gordon,” said the 
countess, more firmly. u I will see this girl for 
myself.” 

“ My dear mother !” cried the earl, enraptured. 
“ I knew your love for me and your good sense 
would triumph over your prejudices. You will see 
Cecil, and you will love her. She will find her way 
straight to your heart !” 

He kissed her in a transport of loving gratitude. 

“ What would he say,” thought the conscience- 
stricken mother, “ if he knew that I am going^ with 
him to Zorlitz only the better to separate him from 
Miss Rosse ? What would he say if he knew that 
no amount of beauty or goodness could penetrate 
the prejudice I have conceived against her ? And 
what would he say if he knew that both his mother 
and his friend were leagued together to betray him ? 
Yet, if I can save him from this marriage he con- 
templates, I shall be glad I betrayed him for his 
good J” 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

FATE. 

Lady Trevor had been thoroughly frightened by 
Mr. Pulford's letter. The danger that she had 
feared when Cecil Rosse was at Zorlitz, loomed up, 
doubly terrible and menacing, now that she knew 
Cecil to be in England. The path of crime, how- 
ever successful, is a path of thorns. The baronet’s 
widow scarcely slept at night ; she started at every 
sound ; her terrors grew upon her every hour. At 
times she longed to leave Castle Cliff and her guests 
and rush to London. It almost seemed to her, 
absurd as she really knew the idea to be, that Cecil 
Rosse had obtained some clew to her history, and 
that she had come to England to follow it up. 

“ And if fate or chance lead her in Lord St. Leon- 
ards’ way, what may not happen ?” she asked her- 
self. “ I am standing upon a volcano. Any instant 
may witness my ruin. All my hope is in Pulford. 
If he fails — what then ? I wish I were in London. 
The month is more than half over, thank fortune ! 

[2H] 



212 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


What brought the girl to London ? Love for the 
Earl of Glenham, or some suspicion of her identity ? 
Impossible ! I must be going mad. She could 
have no suspicion — none whatever. She came in 
pursuit of the earl, the bold creature. I will 
most certainly question Mr. Grafton, as Pulford 
urges !’* 

The opportunity was not afforded her until the 
third day after the receipt of Mr. Pulford’s letter. 

Upon that day Lady Trevor and her guests were 
invited to dine at Breezy Lodge. They drove over 
from Castle Cliff in carriages, and arrived just 
before nightfall of the bright autumnal day. Lord 
Glenham met them at the door, and the ladies were 
shown up to one dressing-room, the gentlemen to 
another. When Lady Trevor descended to the 
drawing-room with her half-dozen lady-guests in 
her train, they found the countess, stately as any 
queen and as gracious, waiting just within the door 
to receive them. 

Lady Glenham bent her gray head to kiss the 
handsome brunette face of the baronet’s widow, 
looking approval at the brightness of the latter in 
her dinner-dress of pink brocade, with ruffles of old 
point lace, and ornaments of diamonds. 

“ How very handsome she is !” thought the 
countess, her eyes following the tall and rounded 
figure. “ Why cannot Gordon love her ? We have 
never done her justice — the marquis and I — on 
account of our dislike to her mother. But Edith is 




Fate . 2 1 3 


undeniably a beauty, and would be a charming wife 
for my son, in spite of the fact that she is some 
years older than he. If he would only admire her 
and forget Miss Rosse, I should be happy !” 

Lady Trevor’s first glance about the long draw- 
ing-room was in quest of Mr. Crafton. He was 
standing near the hearth, and her eyes brightened 
at sight of him. She bowed to him graciously, but 
there was no opportunity for speech at that moment, 
the other gentlemen claiming attention. 

Lord Glenham proved very attentive to Lady 
Trevor, but any one could see that there was no 
love in his looks or thoughts as regarded her. 
They were kinspeople, and he had for many years 
been her friend, trying to reconcile her grand- 
father to her, and regarding her almost as a sister. 
He knew her to be older than himself, and it had 
never entered into his mind to look upon her in the 
light of a possible wife for himself. He took her 
into dinner, and she occupied a place at his right 
hand, the countess having so arranged it. He was 
in better spirits than he had been of late, and Lady 
Trevor’s secret love for him grew stronger under 
his new warmth and geniality. She even, in spite 
of reason, fancied that he was beginning to regard 
her with something of tenderness akin to her own. 

The gentlemen returned to the drawing-room 
with the ladies. Presently, one of the guests — a 
lady — sat down at the piano and played a brilliant 
operatic air. Lord Glenham was discussing the 


214 


Edith Trevor's Secret . 


shooting with one of the gentlemen from Castle 
Cliff, and Maldred Crafton sat alone near the 
window, half hidden by the curtain, watching the 
scene and listening to the music. 

Lady Trevor swept across the room and sank 
down into a fauteuil beside him. 

“ When did you return, Mr. Crafton ?” she asked, 
with flattering interest. “ I heard yesterday that 
you were gone away again, this time to Inverness.” 

“ Yes,” replied Crafton, in a leisurely voice. “I 
have been to Inverness, and returned at noon to-day. 
It’s a long, hard ride over these roads, Lady Trevor, 
particularly when one goes and returns in so short a 
space of time.” 

“ You have friends at Inverness, I suppose ?” said 
Lady Trevor, playing with her fan. 

Mr. Crafton looked surprised. 

“ Oh, no,” he answered. “ I went over only on 
business, to fulfill a few commissions, and that sort, 
of thing.” 

“I have been longing to ask you a few questions. 
Mr. Crafton,” said the widow, with a confidential air, 
“ Something about your adventures of last summer, 
you know.” 

“ So !” thought Crafton. “That’s why she’s play- 
ing sweet to me. Wants to hear about Miss Rosse. 
She is jealous of Lord Glenham, that’s the secret ! 
Ask your questions, my charming widow, I shall be 
delighted to answer them !” 


He repeated the latter sentence aloud in a more 
respectful form of address. . 

“ I want to ask you about this Miss Rosse,” said 
Lady Trevor, in a very low voice. “ Is she beauti- 
ful ?” 

“ Remarkably so.” 

" Good and intelligent ?” 

“ Both to excess and an amused look crept into 
Crafton’s eyes. 

Lady Trevor saw that he had mistaken her 
motive for that of jealousy, and was secretly 
pleased. 

“ Do you think that she loves Lord Glenham ?” 
asked the widow. 

“I know it. And he loves her with all his soul. 
Whether they will marry or not remains to be seen.” 

Lady Trevor set her lips firmly together for an 
instant, repressing the words that rose to her lips. 
She intended to be very cautious, and pursued her 
inquiries carefully, but Crafton merely answered 
them categorically, and gave her no information 
she had not previously possessed. She dared not 
betray her own knowledge of Herr Brocken’s death 
and Cecil’s departure from Zorlitz, and all her skil- 
ful questioning utterly failed to draw the desired 
information from Mr. Crafton. She finally gave up 
the attempt in despair. 

“ He is too deep for me,” she thought, excusing 
herself gracefully and seeking a new resting-place. 
“ Altogether too deep. I can do nothing with him. 


2l6 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


I don’t believe that he knows the girl’s present 
address, however.” 

Crafton’s amused smile deepened as he looked 
after her. 

“ Jealous as a Turk,” he said to himself. “ Well, 
my lady, if all goes well with me, you’ll have plenty 
of time to try your arts and fascinations on Glen- 
ham. And you may win him yet, so don’t despair !” 

At half past nine the carriages were ordered. 
The long twilight was deepening into a bright and 
moonlight night, when the guests took their leave 
and returned to Castle Cliff. 

Before she slept the widow wrote a letter to Mr. 
Pulford narrating her discussion with Mr. Crafton 
and her utter lack of success. This letter was sent 
on its way to Inverness by a mounted messenger 
soon after daybreak. 

It was a week before Lady Trevor heard again 
from Mr. Pulford. He stated that he should not 
return to the Highlands, being occupied with his 
search for Miss Rosse. He informed her that the 
Marquis of St. Leonards was in town, and advised 
her to come to London on leaving Castle Cliff, in 
order to strengthen her position with her grand- 
father. He wrote that he had had no success what- 
ever in his search so far, but was not inclined to 
despair. He desired to consult with her as soon as 
convenient. 

The month seemed to drag yet more heavily to 
Lady Trevor as it neared its close. She was impa- 


Fate . 


21 7 


tient to be off to the southward, but concealed her 
impatience as cleverly as possible. 

Lady Glenham quitted Breezy Lodge a day or 
two after she had made her compact with Crafton, 
and after she had had a second private interview 
with him, and returned to England. 

Upon the last day of the month Lady Trevor and 
her guests embarked upon her yacht, and set sail 
for England. 

The pretty Undine was attended by fair winds and 
weather during her trip to Glasgow, at which port 
the voyagers disembarked, proceeding by rail to 
London. 

Lady Trevor arrived at her town-house late one 
evening in early October. Mr. Pulford was waiting 
for her, the house was aired and warmed and pre- 
pared for her reception, and she passed into her 
luxurious drawing-room, followed by her suitor, 
while her maid proceeded up-stairs. 

“ Well,” said the widow, wearily, “ any news ?” 

“ Of the girl ? Not any,” answered Mr. Pulford. 
“ I’ve searched high and low for her. Of course I 
didn’t expect to find her immediately, but I fear 
I shall not find her at all. It’s hard work, 
searching for one girl among 'millions of people.” 

“ She certainly has not communicated with Lord 
Glenham,” asserted Lady Trevor. “ Do you sup- 
pose that Crafton knows her address ?” 

“ No. How should he learn it more easily than 
I? I think she wishes to hide from Glenham and 


2 I 8 


Edith Trevor's Secret . 


Crafton, and if my theory is true so much the better. 

I informed Lord St. Leonards of your intended 
arrival, and requested him, in your name, to call 
and see you. I met him in Bond street this morn- 
ing-, but he said that you would be fatigued, and he 
would not intrude upon you for a day or two." 

“ Then he intends to visit me ? Good. I’ll go up 
and dress, Pulford. You must stay to dinner, and 
we will have the evening to ourselves." 

“We may not have another evening alone together 
for some time, Edith, for the date of your return to 
town has been heralded in the newspapers. And 
that reminds me, there was a notice in the Court 
Journal a week or two ago to the effect that } r ou 
were engaged to be married to Lord Glen ham. 
Now whose work is that ? Yours ?” 

“ Mine ? How can you ask such an absurd ques- 
tion ? I did not even know there had been such a 
report. Some newsmonger invented it !" 

“ A contradiction must be sent," said Mr. Pulford, 
sullenly. “ I don’t like it. It can’t be Lord Glen- 
ham’s work, because he loves Miss Rosse. I was 
sure the notice had been written with a purpose." 

Lady Trevor laughed and withdrew, going to her 
room. 

Mr. Pulford dined with her and spent the even- 
ing, g°ing away to his club at ten o’clock. 

The next morning, the stream of visitors, who 
usually thronged about the wealthy widow, began 
to arrive. 


Fate . 


219 


Lady Trevor denied herself to some, and saw one 
or two. She was in her morning-room, lolling in 
her easy-chair, having just dismissed her dress- 
maker, when a servant appeared with a card on a 
tray. 

“ The person wishes to see your ladyship on 
important business,” he said. 

“ Madame Lange,” repeated Lady Trevor, read- 
ing the card. “ Show her up, James.” 

Madame Lange, the embroideress and fancy work 
dealer of Regent street, was accordingly shown into 
Lady Trevor’s presence. 

She had a parcel very carefully enveloped in her 
hands. She bowed low to the baronet’s widow, 
who received her graciously. 

“ I have sent to inquire once or twice when your 
ladyship was expected at your town-house,” said 
Madame Lange, “ and I saw this morning in the 
newspaper that you were come, so I took the liberty 
of calling at once.” 

“ And you hawe brought the opera-cloak I 
ordered ? Let me see it. I warn you that I am 
very fastidious, Madame Lange. 1 want something 
unique, uncommon, something that no other lady 
has.” 

“ And you have got it here, my lady,” said 
Madame Lange, unpinning her parcel. “There, 
my lady, what do you think of that ?” 

She flung open the cloak, a rose-tinted cashmere, 
richly and elaborately embroidered with convolvuli 


2 20 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


in silver thread, with vines and leaves. The design 
was artistic, the work was perfect. Lady Trevor 
uttered a little cry of delight. 

“ It is magnificent !” she exclaimed. “ You sent 
to Paris for it, I know, madame !” 

“ No, my lady. It was done in London, by one of 
my workwomen. She designed it and embroidered 
it. Is it not lovely ?” 

Lady Trevor examined it closely. She could find 
no fault in any point. The garment suited her and 
she asked the price. 

Madame Lange named a sum of six times the 
amount she had paid Cecil Rosse for doing the 
work. 

“ I’ll keep it,” said the widow, throwing the cloak 
over a chair the better to display its beauties. 
“ You’ve a treasure in that woman, Madame. I’ll 
have her embroider a dress for me. Is she 
French ?” 

“ She seems English, but has a pretty lit tie foreign 
way with her, my lady. Her work is French out 
and out. Her name is English, unless she spells it 
in a foreign way. It’s Rosse — Cecil Rosse — ” 

Lady Trevor sprang forward as if electrified. 

“ What name ?” she gasped. 

Madame Lange repeated it in wondering surprise. 

“ Cecil Rosse ! And she seems foreign ? Where 
does she live ?” cried Lady Trevor, excitedly. 

“ Do you know of her, my lady ?” 

“ I ? No !” said the widow, calming herself. 44 I 


Fate . 


221 


know nothing of her. I asked because I had a friend 
of that name once, a widow — ” 

“ This Miss Rosse is a young girl, who is always 
attended by an old German servant. I don’t know 
her address,” said Madame Lange, lying, because 
she believed that Lady Trevor desired to employ the 
embroideress without her intervention. “ If you 
like her work, I shall be pleased to take your orders, 
my lady.” 

“ I am delighted with the work. I wish her to 
embroider me a costume, but I must see her per- 
sonally,” said Lady Trevor. “ Send her to me to-day 
and I will discuss designs with her. I care nothing 
about the price, and leave that to you. I am willing 
to pay liberally — whatever you ask.” 

Madame Lange, her brief suspicions lulled, arose 
and said : 

“ Very well, my lady. It shall be as you say. I 
will send Miss Rosse to you to-day.” 

As soon as the embroideress had departed, Lady 
Trevor, in high excitement, despatched a servant in 
search of Mr. Pulford. 

“ To think,” she said to herself, “ that the girl 
should be thrown into my very hands ! It is fate. 
And now to be rid of her forever !” 



CHAPTER XIX. 

AN UNEXPECTED VISIT. 

Lady Trevor stood upon the threshold of her 
wicked success. She was about to discover Cecil 
Rosse, to meet her face to face ! Her excitement 
deepened with every instant. She paced the floor 
of her morning-room like a caged panther. Her 
dark face grew darker still with sinister joy ; her 
hard black eyes glittered like polished jet beads ; 
her rouged lips were set together in a hard, tense 
line. She looked all evil in that hour of joy, like a 
lost soul reveling in deeds of darkness. 

“ Oh, why doesn’t Pulford come ?” she muttered, 
impatiently. “We ought to consult together before 
her arrival. What are we to do?” 

Her excitement had grown to fever-heat before 
her messenger returned with the statement that Mr. 
Pulford had been found at his lodgings and would 
present himself at her ladyship’s house immediately. 

The message had scarcely been delivered when 
Lady Trevor’s trusty ally made his appearance. 

[222] 


An Unexpected Visit. 


223 


He entered the morning-room after his usual 
noiseless fashion, and paused an instant unseen just 
inside the door, watching the tall, full figure in its 
long maize-colored robe, sweeping the floor in haste, 
to and fro, the dark face gleaming, the pointed, 
cruel-looking teeth shut tightly into the full under 
lip, the eyes full of wicked fire. Then he broke the 
silence, exclaiming : 

“ Rehearsing tragedy, Edith ? What’s the matter ?” 

Lady Trevor started and rushed up to him, crying, 
exultantly : 

“ She’s found, Horace ; she’s found !” 

“ Who is found ? Who has been lost ?” demanded 
Mr. Pulford, with an air of bewilderment. 

“ For whom have you been searching during the 
past month ? Whose presence in England endan- 
gers my liberty and my fortune ?” cried Lady 
Trevor, in a fierce whisper. “Whose existence is 
a continual menace to us ?” 

“ The girl ? You don’t mean — ” 

“I do!” interrupted Lady Trevor, vehemently. 
“ Fate has thrown her in my way ! She is coming 
here, to this very house, to see me !” 

“ Cecil Rosse ?” 

“ Cecil Rosse !” 

Mr. Pulford stared, amazed, stupified. 

“ Do you see that cloak ?” exclaimed Lady Trevor, 
pointing to the glittering garment upon the chair 
where she had thrown it. “ Madame Lange, the 
fancy work dealer, who has done much work for me, 


224 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


brought it to me this morning. I asked her if it had 
been done in France. She answered no, that a 
young girl named Cecil Rosse had done it, and I 
bade her send the girl to me for more orders. She 
will be here to-day, this very hour, perhaps — " 

“ The girl may not be the same.” 

“ The name is not common. It is the same. 
Madame Lange said that her Miss Rosse is always 
attended by an old German serving-woman. Of 
course, it is the same. There cannot be a shadow 
of doubt." 

“ Calm your excitement, Edith. If the girl were 
to come now you would betray everything. If she 
does come, what shall you say to her ?" 

“ I shall give her work. I shall make her trust 
me. I shall be as gentle and gracious as a tigress 
playing with her victim. But what must come after- 
wards you know as well as I. I cannot have her 
at liberty. I cannot live in terror of her. I cannot 
risk the discovery of her by the Marquis of St. 
Leonards, or by Lord Glenham. She must be got 
rid of !” and Lady Trevor hissed the words into the 
ear of her confederate. 

“ I understand. Whatever we do, we will do 
together and share the guilt alike," said Mr Pulford, 
coolly. “ I am willing to do anything to retain in 
our hands the magnificent fortune you now hold. 
Whatever menaces our possession of that fortune 
I shall sweep from our path as remorselessly as I 
would destroy a fly.” 


An Unexpected Visit. 


225 


“ I will have no murder !” breathed Lady Trevor, 
shuddering. “ Not that, Pulford. It cannot be 
necessary.” 

“ Perhaps not. We shall see. But if it should 
prove necessary we shall not hesitate even to com- 
mit murder,” said Mr. Pulford, grimly. “ We — you, 
I mean, in particular — have gone too far to stop 
even at murder, Edith. Murde/would be preferable 
to suicide. You may be forced to one or the other.” 

“ Hush ! I cannot bear such words even from 
you. Let us try anything rather than commit the 
worst of crimes — ” 

“ I am willing, if milder measures will answer. 
Do you think I am anxious to imbue my hands in 
blood unless I am driven to it ? The girl must be 
disposed of; but how ? Sit here by me on this sofa, 
Edith, and we will try to arrive at some decision.” 

They sat down near together, and conversed in 
whispers for a long time. 

An hour — two hours — passed. Lady Trevor 
began to watch the clock with feverish anxiety. 

“ The girl must be here soon,” she exclaimed. “ I 
will see her alone and engage her to do some 
embroidery for me. After half an hour or so you 
must come into the room, quite carelessly, as if in 
search of a book, and observe her, and take good 
care to fix her features in your memory. We will 
be very careful not to excite her suspicions. We 
understand each other, Pulford.” 


226 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


“We do. And as soon as this girl is safely out oi 
our way you will marry me ?” 

“ I promise. You will have a right to share in 
the fortune you will have helped me to retain.” 

The luncheon hour had arrived, and still Miss 
Rosse did not make her appearance. The confeder- 
ates lunched together, but neither made any pre- 
tense to appetite, and returned as speedily as pos- 
sible to the morning room. 

It was three o’clock, and the conspirators were 
growing impatient, when a double knock was heard 
upon the outer door of the dwelling. Both started. 

“ That is not a work-woman’s knock,” said Mr. 
Pulford. “ It is some visitor — ” 

A servant entered. 

“ A young person wishes to see your ladyship,” 
he announced. “The name is Miss Rosse.” 

“Show her up, James,” exclaimed Lady Trevor, 
flushing and paling with singular rapidity. “ Let 
her come up at once.” 

The servant disappeared. Mr. Pulford hastily 
beat a retreat to the library. A minute later Cecil 
Rosse was ushered into the morning room. 

Lady Trevor was standing before the hearth, 
looking intently into the fire, her heart beating 
wildly, her dark face pale as ashes, her manner full 
of agitation. She made a violent effort at self-con- 
trol, and turned slowly, facing her visitor. 

She had expected to behold a beautiful girl, but 


An Unexpected Visit . 


227 


she was amazed at the vision of beauty, grace, and 
loveliness that met her eyes. 

The lithe and slim figure, dressed simply in black 
that fitted it exquisitely, the star-like face, and its 
splendid young beauty, the radiant eyes, with the 
golden glint in their red-brown depths, the spirit 
and tenderness expressed in the lovely mouth, all 
impressed her with startling force and vividness. 
She marked the simple, girlish dignity, the uncon- 
scious hauteur of carriage, the lofty poise of the 
small and beautiful head, and a sudden terror pos- 
sessed her. 

This a working-girl ! this an embroideress come 
for work ! Why, she looked like a young princess. 
Lady Trevor said in her own heart fiercely that she 
had been deceived, that Madame Lange had lied to 
her, that this was no girl in search of work, but one 
who had been wronged and who had come demand- 
ing her rights ! 

The guilty woman trembled with her fear. And 
even in that moment of terror, her heart was riven 
by a keen pang of jealousy. This girl, who looked 
like a young goddess, had won Lord Glenham’s 
heart. After loving Cecil Rosse he would never 
love Lady Trevor, that the latter felt convinced. 
She felt an awful impulse of hatred toward Cecil. 
In spite of her reluctance to do murder, she could 
have strangled the girl in that first moment with her 
convulsively-working fingers. 

“ You wished to see me, madam ?” asked Cecil’s 


228 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


clear, sweet voice, breaking the silence. “ I am 
Miss Rosse, sent to you by Madame Lange.” 

“ Ah, yes,” said the widow, hoarsely. “ Be seated, 
Miss Rosse. I— I am not quite well, but will attend 
to you directly.” 

Cecil sat down as directed. The manner of Lady 
Trevor struck her as very singular, and something 
in the appearance of the tall brunette impressed her 
deeply. But before she had time to analyze her 
feelings, Lady Trevor was calm and ready to enter 
upon the apparent business of the visit. 

“ Madame Lange tells me, Miss Rosse,” said the 
baronet’s widow, “ that you embroidered this opera 
cloak. I was quite sure that the work is French. 
Did you really design and embroider it yourself ?” 

Cecil replied in the affirmative. 

“ It is marvelously well done,” said Lady Trevor, 
taking a seat near that of Cecil. “And it is so 
accurate and so charmingly designed that I knew 
you must have learned your trade in Paris !” 

Cecil reddened. Her pride was stung, and her 
manner was a little touched with haughtiness as she 
responded : 

“ I did not learn to embroider in Paris, but in 
Germany. The art was taught me as an accom- 
plishment. I am glad that my work has pleased 
you, madam, and shall be glad of further orders.” 

“ I was very positive that the work was French,” 
said Lady Trevor. “ You have certainly a great 


An Unexpected Visit . 


229 


deal of talent, Miss Rosse. By the way, is yours a 
German name ?" 

“ I am not German," answered Cecil, quietly. “ I 
was brought up in a little village of the Black 
Forest, but I am of English birth." 

“Singular! Your parents settled there, per- 
haps ?" asked Lady Trevor, carelessly. 

The girl’s face grew paler than usual. 

“ I have no parents," she said, with her head held 
a little higher than before. “ I was brought up by 
a German Lutheran pastor and his wife, but they 
were not my kindred." 

She was beginning to wonder at the interest 
which Lady Trevor seemed to take in her history. 
The widow, having satisfied herself of the girl’s 
identity, hastened to change the subject. 

“ I am so delighted with your work, Miss Rosse," 
she remarked, with assumed carelessness, “that I 
should like to engage your services exclusively 
during the next few months. I may as well tell you 
what all the world knows — I am about to be mar- 
ried." 

Cecil bowed gravely, her lips growing white. She 
had suspected that her new patroness was the lady 
whom report declared to be the betrothed wife of 
Lord Glenham. 

“ If you know anything about fashionable society," 
said Lady Trevor — “ and even a sewing-girl, I pre- 
sume, takes an interest in the aristocracy from which 


230 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


she derives a support — I dare say you have heard 
my name linked with that of the Earl of Glenham.” 

Cecil again bowed. She could not speak. The 
hard, black eyes of her enemy read her secret agita- 
tion, and glittered with triumph. 

“ I am to be married in the course of a few 
weeks,” continued Lady Trevor. “ We shall spend 
the winter abroad. Now”, the work I have in hand 
would require your residence at one of my country- 
houses throughout the winter.” 

Cecil looked surprised. 

“ You would see nothing of me or my husband,” 
continued Lady Trevor, as the girl did not speak. 
“ The servants would remain in the house, of course, 
but they would not in any way interfere with your 
comfort — to the contrary, they would have strict 
orders to treat you with every consideration.” 

“ What is the work you wish me to do ?” 

“ I possess some priceless old tapestry that has 
been in our family for hundreds of years,” explained 
Lady Trevor. “ It is moth-eaten and rat-bitten, but 
enough of it remains to render its renovation desir- 
able. The design is rather elaborate and intricate. 
The hand of an artist is required in its restoration. 
Pieces of canvas require to be fitted in with the 
utmost precision and nicety, and the design carried 
out upon them. Until now I have never found any 
one to whom I would entrust the precious work. 
Will you undertake it ?” 

Cecil hesitated. 


An Unexpected Visit. 


231 


“ The pay shall be liberal,” said Lady Trevor, 
hastily. “ As I require not only manual dexterity, 
but thought, research, invention, I am willing to 
pay one hundred pounds for the work, which will 
require the winter for its successful accomplish- 
ment.” 

“The pay is more than liberal, madam,” said 
Cecil, “but I am not sure that I can accept the 
place you offer me. I have an old servant from 
whom I cannot be separated — ” 

“ It is not necessary that you should be. She 
can accompany you.” 

Cecil reflected seriously, while her enemy 
watched her as a cat watches a mouse. The girl 
felt that she was very pleasantly situated at 
Queen’s Crescent, her landlady was kind and 
motherly, and the place had already begun to seem 
home-like to her. But then she had a longing for 
the country, and often felt stifled in the close quar- 
ters of her lodgings. The sum offered for her 
winter's services was munificent. She could keep 
Gretchen with her, and in the spring they would 
have a handsome little extra fund to add to their 
store. 

Against these considerations were to be placed 
certain drawbacks and objections. She felt that 
she could never meet Lord Glenham again. She 
loved him with all her heart, and could not bear to 
look upon his face when he should be the husband 
of another. How could she work for his wife ? 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


232 


The passionate young soul thrilled with jealous 
pain. How could she take money from the woman 
who had supplanted her in Lord Glenham’s heart ? 

Lady Trevor witnessed the struggle going on in 
Cecil’s mind, and awaited its conclusion. 

“ I did not deem it necessary to say that your 
servant, with other necessaries, would be included 
in the price of your services, and be exclusive of the 
hundred pounds,” said the widow. “ I can see, Miss 
Rosse, that you have been brought up as a lady. Y ou 
would be treated as such at my house. The ser- 
vants will regard you as a superior. You will be 
virtually mistress of the house, since I shall be 
abroad with my husband, and shall not return until 
your work is done.” 

“ Where is your house, Lady Trevor ?” 

“ In the northern part of Yorkshire, near the 
coast. It is remote from a railway station, and if 
you decide to go, I shall be glad to send you to Grey- 
court — that is the name of my place — in my yacht. 
It will be in London to-morrow, and is to sail to- 
morrow evening for Greycourt.” 

This was false, the Undine being at that moment 
on her way down the west coast from Scotland en 
route for London. But the plans of Lady Trevor 
and Mr. Pulford were well laid, and this statement 
was in accordance with them. 

“I cannot give you a decided answer at this 
moment, Lady Trevor,” replied Cecil. “ I must 
first counsel with my servant, who is my only 


An Unexpected Visit. 


233 


friend. If you will kindly give me until evening to 
consider your kind offer, I will then send you my 
answer.” 

The widow could scarcely conceal her disappoint- 
ment. She had expected the girl to accept her 
offer without much delay. 

“ If you desire to achieve an independence, Miss 
Rosse, I am sure that you could not do better,” she 
exclaimed. “ And the work would interest an 
artist. Of course, you must do as you think best, 
however.” 

Before Cecil could make any response, Mr. Pul- 
ford sauntered into the room. Under cover of 
searching for a book, he stared curiously at the 
young girl, starting at the sight of her splendid 
beauty and radiant loveliness. 

Cecil colored under his gaze, and arose to her 
feet. 

“If you will excuse me now, madam,” she said, 
courteously, “ I will return to my lodgings and 
counsel with my servant.” 

The door-knocker at this moment sounded vio- 
lently. Lady Trevor paused to listen. Before she 
could collect her thoughts sufficiently to answer 
Cecil the door opened, and the Maaquis of St. Leon- 
ards stalked into the room. 



CHAPTER XX. 

THE SUCCESS OF THE CONSPIRATORS. 

The consternation of the two plotters at the unex- 
pected and unwelcome appearance of the old lord 
was too great for words. 

Lady Trevor’s visage grew livid in its swift pal- 
lor. Her hard black eyes filled with sudden hor- 
ror. She clutched at her chair with uncontrollable 
faintness. Mr. Pulford stood like a statue, scarcely 
less startled and horrified. 

The marquis surveyed them both in astonishment. 
His keen old eyes could not fail to mark their agi- 
tation, but he attributed it to a wrong cause. 

“ Excuse my unceremonious entrance, Edith,” he 
exclaimed. “ I would not let the footman announce 
me, especially as he said that you were not engaged 
with visitors.” 

Lady Trevor made a vigorous effort at self-con- 
trol. 

“ You are always welcome, grandpapa,” she said, 
her voice quavering in spite of herself. “I am 
delighted to see you !” 

[234] 



The Success of the Conspirators. 235 


“ You look so !” saidThe marquis, dryly. 

Cecil had made a movement to withdraw. That 
movement drew the marquis’ attention upon her. 
He had not previously noticed her presence, now he 
stared at her, bewildered. He recognized her at 
first glance, as she also recognized him. 

“ Miss Rosse !” he ejaculated, his stern and 
haughty old face kindling into sudden warmth and 
pleasure. “Is it possible ? I am delighted to see 
you !” 

Lady Trevor and Mr. Pulford exchanged looks of 
utter amazement and horror. 

The marquis approached Cecil, holding out his 
hand. She, blushing like a rose, placed her small 
hand in his, and faltered a response. Something in 
his looks and tones thrilled her strangely. 

“ Grandpapa,” said Lady Trevor, huskily, “ I did 
not know that you were acquainted with Miss 
Rosse !” 

“ I owe to Miss Rosse the preservation of my life 
and property,” said the old marquis. “I was 
attacked by two miscreants upon the night after my 
return to town in a dark little street out of Regent 
street. The rascals threw me down, clutched my 
throat, and would have strangled me and rifled my 
person at the same moment if Miss Rosse had not 
come to my rescue. She had seen the struggle, and, 
like the brave young lady she is, she gave a scream 
for help and came flying towards me. The two 
rascals took to their heels. I have thought of you 


236 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


very often since that night, Miss Rosse, and am very 
glad to see you again. I am delighted to find that 
you are one of Lady Trevor's friends.” 

It never occurred to the old lord that this grace- 
ful, high-bred, beautiful girl was less than Lady 
Trevor’s social equal. 

“ The service I was enabled to render your lord- 
ship was too small to merit your gratitude,” said 
Cecil, modestly. “I trust that you have quite 
recovered from the effects of the assault.” 

“ Quite, I thank you. Do not let me keep you 
standing, Miss Rosse !” 

“ I was about to go when you came in,” replied 
Cecil. “ Permit me to bid you good-morning.” 

She bowed to Lady Trevor, to Mr. Pulford, and to 
the marquis, who opened the door for her, and 
watched her departure with something of wistful 
sadness in his grand old eyes. 

“The loveliest girl I ever saw in my life !” he 
ejaculated, when the house door closed after her. 
“ Who is she, Edith ? The heiress of some noble 
house, I know.” 

Mr. Pulford discreetly withdrew into the inner 
room, leaving the marquis and his granddaughter 
alone together. 

The widow felt a great burden lifted from her, as 
Lord St. Leonards indicated by his question that 
the girl’s history was not known to him. 

“You are mistaken, grandpapa,” she exclaimed, 


The Success of the Conspirators. 237 


“ Miss Rosse is not what you think. She is only a 
sewing* girl." 

“ Impossible ! She ! This is not a proper subject 
for jest, Edith,” said Lord St. Leonards, sternly. 

“ I am not jesting. The girl has been sewing for 
me. Do you see my cloak ? Is it not a perfect 
work of art ? Miss Rosse embroidered it. I con- 
sider her one of the foremost in her trade.” 

“ But there must be some mistake, Edith. Miss 
Rosse is a thorough lady, well-educated, and well- 
bred. She is better fitted for a governess, if she is 
poor, than for manual labor.” 

“ Ah, beauty blinds the eyes of men !” cried Lady 
Trevor, with assumed playfulness. “ Miss Rosse 
has the outside varnish and veneer of good breeding, 
but she is of obscure parentage. Why, she was 
brought up on the Surrey side, on some humble 
street of Southwark, and her father is a shoemaker. 
She has one sister who is a milliner. On account of 
her beauty this girl has had superior advantages, 
which she has well improved. She looks quite like a 
lady.” 

The marquis looked staggered at this declaration, 
uttered with every appearance of truthfulness. 

“ If this girl be what you say, Edith,” he exclaimed, 
“ then I will never more believe in blood. Genera- 
tions of culture and gentle living are supposed to 
have a refining effect upon the human body. This 
young lady shows, if ever human being did, the 
effects of such culture and refinement among her 


238 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


ancestors. We of the aristocracy, as we call it, are 
no better, perhaps, than our neighbors of Southwark, 
but they, for generations, have had time only for 
labor, thought only for wants and how to gratify 
them. Our ancestors have been among those who 
made the laws ; they have been leaders ; they have 
cultivated their minds and let their muscles dwindle 
into feebleness, and the result is that we look differ- 
ent, and are different from the people who have been 
obliged always to toil. Miss Rosse cannot belong 
to such a family as that you describe. I should as 
soon expect to see a rose blossom upon an apple 
tree.” 

“ Your theory is very fine, grandpapa,” said the 
widow, “but in this case you are mistaken. Miss 
Rosse is certainly pretty, she has been educated 
above her station, and appears like a lady, but she is 
not ashamed of her humble origin or of her humble 
relations.” 

“ I can well believe that. Granting once that she 
has the origin you say, I know that she would honor 
her parents, if they were beggars even. Her pure, 
sweet eyes show that though she is very proud, her 
pride is not vanity. She is incapable of looking 
with scorn upon any one, however humble.” 

“You seem to know her well, grandpapa.” 

“ I judge from her face. I am a student of physi- 
ognomy. I never saw her but twice — that night in 
the street and now. But, Edith, I never met a 


The Success of the Conspirators . 239 


person who impressed me so singularly and deeply. 
Do you know her address ?” 

The widow felt a new and keen alarm, which she 
did her best to conceal. 

“ She lives in Southwark, but she did not tell me 
the street and number,” she replied, with pretended 
indifference. “ She will bring home fresh work for 
me next week. I’ll ask then for her exact address.” 

“ If my little Alba had lived she would have 
been about the age of Miss Rosse,” said the old 
marquis, thoughtfully. “ And this young girl’s 
eyes somehow remind me of the baby eyes of my 
little grandchild, a deep gloom with sunlight in its 
midst.” 

Lady Trevor stooped to pick up her handkerchief. 
Her breathing was strangely hurried. The marquis 
could not see her face. 

“ Alba might have looked as Miss Rosse does,” 
he continued, as if thinking aloud. “ But then I 
never see a young girl but I think of the little child 
I idolized. Oh, Edith, I can never forgive you for 
keeping her from me during those last months of 
her little life ! I can never forgive you for letting 
her die away from me. I parted from her when 
she was all baby-beauty and brightness. You sent 
her back to me in her coffin.” 

“ You are unjust, cruelly unjust, grandpapa ! I 
would to Heaven I had died in her stead !” cried 
Lady Trevor, putting her handkerchief to her eyes. 
“ You blame me for what I could not help—” 


240 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


“ If I could only be sure of that. I doubt you 
Edith, in spite of all my efforts to believe in you. 
The little creature stood between you and a colossal 
fortune — ” 

“ And you think that I may have killed her ? ' 
Why, I was not twenty-one years old at the time !” 

“ You were old in many respects, and you were 
the wife of one of the worst men who ever dis- 
graced the name of Englishman. I believe that he 
would not have scrupled to kill a little child who 
stood between him and a great inheritance. I may 
be wrong. If so, forgive me. But you were greatly 
to blame for not bringing her to me immediately 
after her mother’s death. That you did not do so, 

I will never forgive you ! You benefited by Alba’s 
death. That fact in itself is an accusation against 
you.” 

“ You are very cruel and unjust to me. I am 
friendless and alone !” murmured Lady Trevor, in 
passionate reproach. “ Do you call this reconcilia- 
tion, my lord ? I cannot bear such scenes as these. 
I will not. If you will treat me as your grandchild 
whom you have forgiven, I will devote my life to 
your happiness, but to be accused of horrible crimes 
is more than I can bear.” 

“We will have no more of such accusations, 
Edith,” said the marquis, in a subdued voice, 
repenting his outbreak. “ The sight of Miss Rosse 
brought it all back to me, my grief and loss, and 
the memory of the little dead child in her baby- 


The Success of the Conspirators. 241 


beauty and sweetness. I live a lonely life, full of 
haunting- memories. If I had only a family about 
me I should be content. I am old ; I was made for 
domestic life. I go home to great desolate rooms, 
where only servants enter to break my solitude. I 
sit alone at my table, with my butler and footman 
to wait upon me, but with no friendly face near, no 
kindly voice to speak to me. It’s a hard, barren, 
miserable life.” 

“You need some one to cheer you, dear grand- 
papa,” said Lady Trevor, changing her seat for one 
nearer to him. “ Let me come to St. Leonards. I 
would ask nothing better than to devote my life to 
securing your comfort and happiness.” 

“ Very prettily said, but I cannot have you there 
yet. I should break out upon you in stormy scenes 
like this one, until your life became a burden. I 
feel very bitterly towards you still at times. I sus- 
pect you of crime towards your innocent little step- 
sister. Heaven grant I wrong you, Edith ! But 
for the present you must see that we are better 
apart. I loved the Earl of Glenham as if he were 
my son. If he can be weaned from his foreign 
adventuress, and if you and he should marry, I shall 
be glad to have a place at your fireside. Gordon’s 
presence will turn our antagonism into harmony. 
Until that marriage, I shall come to see you often, 
and desire your visits, but we will not have one 
home.” 


242 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


“ And you will continue to bear your loneliness, 
grandfather ?” 

The marquis flushed with a new idea. 

“ I do not know that that is quite necessary, 
Edith,” he answered. “You say that Miss Rosse 
belongs to an obscure family, and that she is well 
educated. She is out of her proper place where she 
is. She is made for a life of refinement. Edith, I 
will adopt her, if she will consent.” 

“ Grandfather !” 

“ Does the project seem wild ? I will adopt her 
as my grandchild, ward, whatever she may choose. 
She shall brighten my lonely home, sing to me> 
write my letters, and fill out my desolate existence 
with new interests. I think she could not refuse 
my offers.” 

“ It is not proper. The world will talk,” ejaculated 
Lady Trevor, in a panic. 

“ I am seventy-five years old. People do not 
imagine evil of one so near the grave. The child is 
but seventeen or so. And I will legally adopt her, 
Edith, and settle upon her a fortune sufficient to 
keep her properly after I am gone. I wish I had 
her address.” 

“ I shall have it next week when she brings home 
my work. I will then send it to you,” said the 
widow, hoarsely. 

“ Thank you. I will go down now and see my 
lawyer about it. He must see the father and 


The Success of the Conspirators . 243 


arrange affairs legally. I will myself see Miss 
Rosse.” 

“ You don’t seem to anticipate a refusal.” 

“ I do not. I saw that she liked me as I liked her. 
It was a mutual attraction, Edith, although I am so 
old and she is so young. I know I could win her 
daughterly love. I intend to make the effort, at any 
rate. Send me her address as soon as you receive 
it. I’ll go dowm now to see Barker.” 

He arose, and the widow followed his example. 

“ Ah, by the way,” said Lord St. Leonards, halt- 
ing midway to the door. “ I noticed your confusion, 
Edith, when I entered the room. And I knew its 
cause.” 

“ Impossible !” breathed Lady Trevor. 

“ I expressed my disapprobation of that man Pul- 
ford when I was at Castle Cliff. He was the friend 
and companion of your dissolute husband, and you 
should not permit him to visit you. No wonder you 
were confused at having me find him so. familiarly 
in your presence. You must close your doors upon 
him. I know faces. His is a bad one !” 

“ You do him injustice, my lord. He is my man 
of business — ” 

“ Get rid of him, then. Some one asked me yes- 
terday at my club if it were true that the fellow 
were your lover. Think of that. You may imagine 
how I resented the insinuation. After your mad 
folly in running away with Sir Albert Trevor, 
people suspect you capable of any amount of idiocy, 


244 


Edith Trevor's Secret . 


I imagine. Get rid of Pulford. I’ll find you another 
man of business who won’t presume on his place !” 

“ I can’t discharge Pulford at present, grand- 
father, but I will do so before I marry Lord Glen- 
ham. Come and see me often. I am always 
delighted to see you !” and the widow bestowed an 
embrace and kiss upon the marquis, who received it 
as if it were distasteful. 

“ Good-morning, Edith. Don’t forget Miss Rosse’s 
address !’’ and the old lord formally took his leave. 

Lady Trevor had scarcely resumed her seat when 
Mr. Pulford rejoined her. 

“ Did you hear what the marquis said ?” demanded 
the widow. 

“ Every word, including his complimentary men- 
tion of myself,” replied Pulford, his florid face burn- 
ing with his anger. “ Proud as he is, he’ll find that I 
shall be his grandson-in-law in spite of him ! That 
will be my revenge upon him, Edith. I thought 
your reply to him very good.” 

“ He wants to adopt that girl !” 

“ Can he suspect ?” 

“ No. He is in his dotage. He has taken a fancy 
to her, but he cannot possibly have the most remote 
suspicion of the truth, else he would have killed me 
in his fury. He is awful in his rages. But what a 
complication ! Who could have foreseen that he 
would encounter her ? Do you know, Pulford, I feel 
as if I were fighting against invisible beings — as if 
I were struggling with fate itself in this matter. 


The Success of the Conspirators. 245 


Just see what has happened. The girl was hidden 
in the depths of the Black Forest, and Lord Glen- 
ham found her there and fell in love with her. Her 
guardian died and she came to England, and Lord 
St. Leonards encounters her strangely, and wants to 
adopt her. Do you believe in Providence ?” 

“ I am tempted to do so now.” 

“ And so am 1. There is something in all this I 
can't understand. The girl has not decided to 
accept my proposition. Suppose she refuses ?” 

“ Then we’ll carry her off by force. We have 
gone too far to stop now.” 

“ She hesitated because she believes me engaged 
to marry Lord Glenham, and she does not want my 
money, and she does want to avoid seeing him. I 
offered a handsome bait. I think the old servant 
will prove a prudent sort of person and advise her 
to accept the offer. She was brought up in the 
forest and I saw her eyes sparkle at the mention of 
the country. I think my pretty gudgeon will swal- 
low my bait.” 

“ I will have a yacht ready to-morrow for the trip. 
I can charter one easily enough. The other 
arrangements will also be made to-day !” 

Lady Trevor’s prophecy proved correct. Old 
Gretchen had a longing, even greater than that of 
her young mistress, for the country, and strenuously 
urged Cecil to accept Lady Trevor’s offer. 

“ We shall never see Lord Glenham there,” the 


246 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


old woman urged. “ Her ladyship’s money is as 
good as any body’s. Do consent, Miss Cecil.” 

“ It is something to live for an entire winter in 
the house he will hereafter inhabit,” thought the 
girl, drearily. “ And the work I do will meet his 
eyes often and often in the years to come, and he 
will never know whose hands restored his tapestry. 
Yet she may tell him, and he will look on the work 
with tenderness, for her he once loved. I’ll go.” 

“ I’ll leave a letter for Mr. Crafton,” thought old 
Gretchen. “ He can follow us if he likes. He’ll 
have a better chance of winning Miss Cecil there.” 

And so it happened that Cecil, suspecting no 
deep-laid design against herself, feeling no mis- 
giving, sent that very afternoon a letter to Lady 
Trevor accepting the situation offered her. 

If she could have seen the evil joy of the pair over 
that letter she would have trembled. 

“ It’s all right now,” said Mr. Pulford. “ Write to 
her to come here with her luggage and her servant 
in a cab at five o'clock to-morrow afternoon. She 
will come — she will go away again — and then she 
will disappear from the knowledge of all who have 
known her, and be beyond the search of the keenest 
detective in all England. It will be only another of 
the ‘ mysterious disappearances ’ that now and then 
are recorded in the newspapers. I am impatient 
for to-morrow ! We shall sleep in safety to- 
morrow night ! We shall then have never more 
any reason to fear ‘ Miss Rosse !’ ” 





CHAPTER XXI. 

EMBARKED. 

Lady Trevor wrote a letter, which Mr. Pulford 
dictated, expressing to Miss Rosse her gratifica- 
tion at her acceptance of her ladyship’s offer of 
employment, and requesting her to arrive at Lady 
Trevor’s house in a cab, with her luggage and ser- 
vant, upon the afternoon of the next day at five 
o’clock. 

This letter was dispatched by a special messenger, 
Cecil’s address having been given in her letter, and 
an answer was returned, saying that Miss Rosse 
would keep the appointment. 

Mr. Pulford went assiduously to work to carry out 
the nefarious scheme he, with Lady Trevor’s able 
assistance, had concocted. 

While the unscrupulous pair were thus employed, 
Cecil Rosse summoned her landlady to an interview, 
and informed her of her purposed change of resi- 
dence. 


[247] 



248 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


Mrs. Thomas’ surprise was very great. 

“ It’s a magnificent chance for you, Miss Rosse,” 
.she exclaimed. “A hundred pounds, and board and 
lodging for yourself and Gretchen thrown in, for a 
winter’s work ! Them rich nobility don’t really 
know what to do with their money. A hundred 
pounds above all expenses for just sitting like a lady 
at your embroidery ! I shall be sorry to lose you, 
Miss. A more quiet lodger, nor a truer lady, I 
never see. But it’s for your good, so I won’t say 
one word against your going.” 

“Your house seems a second home to me, Mrs. 
Thomas,” said Cecil. “ I do not like to leave it, yet 
I feel as if I ought to do the best I can for myself 
and Gretchen. I shall come back to you when my 
work for Lady Trevor is finished. I hope you will 
always have a room for us.” 

“ I’ll always make room for you, Miss Rosse,” 
exclaimed the landlady, energetically. “ You’ll 
always be as welcome here as flowers in Spring.” 

Mrs. Thomas was presently summoned from 
the room. 

“ And now,” said Cecil, “ I will write a note to 
Madame Lange, to be sent to her to-morrow. She 
has been very kind to me, and I cannot leave her 
without a word.” 

She sat down at her little dispatch-box and wrote 
a graceful little letter to the fancy-work dealer, 
stating that Lady Trevor desired her to repair some 
valuable old tapestry-work at her ladyship’s coun- 


Embarked. 


249 


try-house, and that she had accepted the commis- 
sion. 

While Cecil was engaged with this note, old 
Gretchen, in her own bedroom, was laboriously com- 
posing a letter to Maldred Crafton, who would soon 
present himself again at Queen’s Crescent, she well 
knew. 

The letter was written in German, ill-spelled, and 
execrably penned. It stated that Miss Cecil was 
going to Lady Trevor’s country-house in Yorkshire 
for the winter to prepare her. ladyship’s tapestry- 
hangings, and if Mr. Crafton would call upon Miss 
Cecil in that remote region she would undoubtedly 
be glad to see him. 

“ My young lady knows that Lady Trevor is the 
betrothed of Lord Glenham,” the letter concluded, 
“but she will never see his lordship. She would 
have refused the engagement but for my per- 
suasions, but I can see that she is pining on account 
of his treachery to her, and I know a winter in 
the country, with long walks and fine scenery, 
would be good for her. She grows paler and thin- 
ner every day. I am alarmed about her. So I have 
urged her to go to this great house in Yorkshire for 
a complete change. After a month or so I hope 
that she will be herself again. If it seem strange 
to you, sir, that she should go to the house of Lord 
Glenham ’s betrothed, blame me and not her.” 


250 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


And the letter concluded with protestations of the 
writer’s good faith and sincere homage. 

This letter Gretchen deposited in Mrs. Thomas 
keeping the next day, with directions that it should 
be delivered to Mr. Crafton upon the occasion of his 
next visit to the house. 

The next day, also, Cecil dispatched her missive 
through the post to Madame Lange. 

Then the task of packing was entered upon. 
Cecil’s possessions numbered two trunks. Gretchen 
owned a portmanteau. One of the trunks contained 
Miss Rosse’s small wardrobe ; the other was filled 
with the choicest books that had belonged to the old 
pastor of Zorlitz, two or three pictures that had 
hung on the parsonage walls, and a few additional 
articles which derived their chief value from ancient 
associations. This trunk Cecil decided to leave in 
the care of Mrs. Thomas. 

Dinner was served at three o’clock in the girl’s 
sitting-room, and soon after four a cab was brought 
to the door, and Cecil and Gretchen took their 
departure from Queen’s Crescent. 

As the young girl looked back at the dingy brick 
dwelling, and at her landlady in the open doorway 
with a handkerchief at her eyes, her heart suddenly 
sank within her. 

“I’ve a good mind not to go, after all,” she 
exclaimed, impulsively. 

“But it is too late to change your mind, Miss 


Embarked, 


251 


Cecil,” cried Gretchen, aghast. “ What would Lady 
Trevor say ? What would Madame Lange say ? 
What would Mrs. Thomas say ?” 

“ Yes, it is too late !” sighed Cecil. “ I must go 
now. Yet such a strange fear came upon me at 
that moment, Gretchen, such an awful dread, as if I 
were going straight to my death !” 

She looked at her old servant with wild and 
frightened eyes and a pallor like that of the dead. 

“ Nonsense, Miss Cecil,” responded the old woman, 
shivering in spite of her air of rebuke and disbelief. 
“ The tea was too strong for you, that is what ails 
you.” 

Cecil shook her head and sank back upon her 
cushions. 

“ If it’s a presentiment,” said Gretchen, who was 
at heart superstitious and a believer in signs 
and omens, “ it must be a warning against your 
going to Yorkshire by rail as you’d intended doing. 
There’s lots of accidents by ^ail, more than by 
water. We had better go in her ladyship’s yacht.” 

“ I cannot understand this strange depression. I 
wish I had refused to go to Yorkshire. How foolish 
I am, Gretchen. This is all nonsense, as you say. 
I must conquer it.” 

The girl sat in silence throughout their drive to 
Lady Trevor’s residence. When the cabman 
opened the door and the two alighted, Gretchen 
noticed that the hand of her young mistress was 
cold as ice. 


252 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


“ Are you going to be ill, Miss Cecil ?” she whis- 
pered, anxiously. 

“ No. It's over now. I am myself again. We — 
I — must enter the house. Lady Trevor has some 
last instructions to give me.” 

Gretchen followed her young mistress up the 
steps and lifted the knocker. A footman in livery 
opened the door. 

“ Will you inform Lady Trevor that Miss Rosse is 
here ?” said the young lady. 

“ Her ladyship said you were to be shown into 
the morning-room,” replied the footman. “ Her 
ladyship will see you directly.” 

He flung open the door of the morning-room, 
and Cecil and Gretchen passed in. 

The room was unoccupied. The two were kept 
waiting for some minutes, when the sound of wheels 
caused Gretchen to approach the window. 

“ Our cab is gone, Miss Cecil !” she cried, in alarm. 
“ Our luggage is stolen — ” 

She was about *lo rush to the door in a panic, 
when Mr. Pulford, suave and bland, made his 
appearance. 

“Good-morning, Miss Rosse,” he said, bowing 
courteously. “ I have taken the liberty to pay and 
discharge your cabman, as he says his horse is too 
tired to carry you the further distance to Gravesend. 
The luggage is in the hall, and another cab has 
been sent for. Lady Trevor will be with you 
directly.” 


Embarked. 


253 


Cecil inclined her head gravely. 

“ I know nothing about Gravesend,” she said, 
“ Are we to go there ?” 

“ It’s a suburb where vessels lie,” declared Mr. 
Pulford. “ Lady Trevor’s yacht is there. You will 
have a delightful sail in her, Miss Rosse. The 
weather is fine and you will have a quick trip to 
Yorkshire. It will be far pleasanter than by rail, 
and, as the yacht is obliged to go, the trip will cost 
you nothing.” 

“ Lady Trevor is very kind and thoughtful,” 
remarked Cecil. “ I have never been on the water 
except when crossing the Channel, but I think I 
should enjoy the sail.” 

At this juncture Lady Trevor entered the room. 

She looked somewhat worn and troubled, despite 
the rouge and pearl powder that artistically orna- 
mented her countenance. Her eyes were haggard, 
and there were dark circles below them. An uneasy 
conscience and a deep and terrible anxiety lest her 
wicked plans should miscarry and render her wake- 
ful during the night, and now tortured her beyond 
expression. She feared, too, lest Lord St. Leonards 
or the Earl of Glenham might visit her unexpect- 
edly while Cecil was in her house. The feeling that 
she was fighting fate was strong upon her. She 
was playing a bold game, and its issue seemed to her 
just now more than doubtful — so many were her 
guilty fears. 

“ You are punctual, I see, Miss Rosse,” she 


254 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


exclaimed. “ I like that. I will not detain yon 
long, as you are to go to Gravesend. By the way, 
have you informed your friends of your engage- 
ment with me ?” 

“ I have not many friends, madam,” replied Cecil. 
“ I told my landlady, and I wrote to Madame Lange, 
who has been kind to me, that I should spend the 
winter in working embroidery at your ladyship’s 
country-house in Yorkshire.” 

Lady Trevor pulled at her bracelets nervously. 
Mr. Pulford’s florid face darkened. 

“That was quite right and proper,” said the 
widow, after a minute’s silence. “ Did ybu tdll 
them by what route you intended going ?” 

“ No, madam. In truth, I had decided to go by 
rail rather than by boat,” said Cecil, frankly, “ so of 
course I did not mention the yacht.” 

Lady Trevor and her ally looked relieved. 

“ Of course,” said the widow, “ you must suit 
yourself, Miss Rosse. If you prefer to go by rail, 
do not hesitate to say so. But the house is several 
miles from any station and there would be no one to 
meet you, while if you go in the yacht, which is 
obliged to make the voyage, you save yourself 
expense and fatigue, have a far pleasanter journey, 
and will be met at the landing. I sent a letter to 
my old housekeeper yesterday to send a carriage to 
the harbor to meet you.” 

“It’s a pity we had not known earlier of Miss 
Rosse’s change of mind,” said Mr, Pulford, consult- 


Embarked . 


255 


ing his watch, and speaking in a manner that was 
apparently sincere. “The night-train for York- 
shire is gone. If you decide not to go in the yacht, 
Miss Rosse, you will be obliged to wait until morn- 
ing.” 

“ The yacht is most comfortable,” remarked Lady 
Trevor. “ Every arrangement has been made for 
the comfort of ladies. I have recently made a 
voyage in it myself. By the way, the yarns, and 
wools, canvas and needles have been sent on board, 
have they not, Mr. Pulford ?” 

Her ladyship’s confederate assented. 

“ As you have decided not to go in the yacht, Miss 
Rosse,” said the widow, pleasantly, with no outward 
sign of the discomfiture she secretly felt, “ Mr. Pul- 
ford may as well telegraph to the sailing-master not 
to wait longer.” 

“ I beg your pardon, madam,” said Cecil, “ if I 
have seemed hesitating and undecided. I am not 
used to the water, but no doubt I shall like sailing. 
I do not wish to return to my lodgings for the night, 
as I have given them up, and I will therefore accept 
with pleasure your kind offer of conveyance on your 
yacht.” 

“ There is the cab I ordered at the door,” 
exclaimed Mr. Pulford. 

“ Then I will not detain you longer, Miss Rosse,” 
said Lady Trevor, graciously. “ I am delighted in 
having secured the services of such an artist as you 
are in the restoration of my valuable tapestry. 


256 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


Take your time to the work. I shall not visit my 
country house this winter, and when your task is 
done, if you will write to Mr. Pulford, my agent, he 
will send you the amount agreed upon, one hundred 
pounds. I wish you a pleasant voyage and a 
happy stay at my dear old Yorkshire home !” 

Cecil acknowledged the expression of apparent 
kindness, and after a few final questions, took her 
leave. 

Mr. Pulford accompanied her to the cab-door. 
The luggage was already placed upon it. He 
helped her into the cab, handed in Gretchen, and 
gave his order to the driver in a low voice. 

The cab rolled away and he re-entered the house. 

The footman was looking out after the vehicle. 
Mr. Pulford paused a moment to speak to him. 

“You picked up a chance cab, I suppose, James ?” 
he asked. 

“Yes, sir, one that had just set down a fare.” 

“The young lady has entered her ladyship’s 
service,” remarked Mr. Pulford. “ She is to catch 
the limited mail for Yorkshire, and if the horse is 
not blown they’ll make the train in time. The 
young lady and her old foreign servant are as 
ignorant as a pair of geese of English ways. I 
hope they won’t come to grief on the way to York- 
shire — to her ladyship’s country seat.” 

He passed on into the morning-room. Lady 
Trevor had been watching from the window. She 
came forward now to meet him. 




CECIL TAKEN ABOARD THE YACHT. — Nee Page 259 




















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Embarked. 


257 


“ All right so far, Edith,” said Mr. Pulford, airily. 
“ The plot works to perfection.” 

“ You are sure it will continue to do so ?” 

“ Perfectly sure. I must catch a stray hansom 
and whirl down to Gravesend after them to see 
them aboard and safely embarked. And then to 
catch the train for my journey. Have no more fears, 
Edith. Trust me, and all will come out right. Our 
tracks are covered. I defy any one to uncover them.” 

He seized his hat and hurried from the house. 

Turning the nearest corner, he came upon an 
empty hansom cab. He hailed and engaged it, and 
went swiftly on his way to Gravesend. 

Arrived at his destination, he had no difficulty in 
discovering the yacht he had chartered as it lay in 
the stream. He hired a row boat and went out to it. 

It proved to be a small, well-built vessel, snug and 
neat and trim, a gentleman’s pleasure craft. The 
deck was scoured to whiteness. There, was a 
small saloon prettily fitted up, with carpet, table, 
and divan, and off the saloon were four state-rooms, 
small, but bright, clean and pleasant. 

“ These quarters will strike Miss Rosse as sump- 
tuous,” thought Mr. Pulford. “ I had to pay a good 
price for it, but then I did my business under an 
assumed name with the sailing master, and it’s all 
safe — safe as the dead.” 

One of the state-rooms had been newly cleansed 
and prepared for the occupancy of Cecil and her 
servant. After examining this with considerable 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


258 


interest, Mr. Pulford re-entered the saloon. A 
stewardess had just made her appearance, and he 
entered into conversation with her. She was a 
Portuguese woman whom he himself had hired for 
the occasion — a dark -browed, heavy-featured person, 
with something repulsive about her ill -cut mouth, 
and small, sleepy -looking eyes. He had known her 
a long time, and was quite well aware that her looks 
did not belie her disposition, and that she was capa- 
ble of committing a crime even, if she were well 
paid for it. 

“ They will soon be here, Maria,” exclaimed Mr. 
Pulford, placing a little bag of coin in her hands. 
“ There is the beginning of your pay. Be faithful 
to me, carry out my instructions, and you shall have 
the reward I promised you.” 

“ I’ll earn it !” declared Maria, grimly. “ Every- 
thing is ready. We’ll be off as soon as they come !” 

“ Remember,” whispered Pulford, impressively, 
“ that on proofs of the girl’s death the reward shall 
be doubled !” 

“ I’ll remember !” replied the woman, significantly. 
“ I shall claim the whole sum, and that soon !” 

Mr. Pulford, well satisfied, returned to the deck, 
and presently was rowed ashore. 

He had scarcely landed when the vehicle with 
Cecil and her servant arrived. It was now growing 
dusk, with indications of rain. Both Cecil and 
Gretchen were well muffled. 

“ I came down to see you off, Miss Rosse * 


Embarked, 


2 59 


explained Pulford, marking Cecil’s surprise, after 
he had dismissed her cab. “ Lady Trevor was so 
anxious for your comfort that she insisted upon my 
coming. The wind has changed within an hour, and 
it is commencing to rain, but you’ll have smooth 
water and a pleasant voyage. Let me take you out 
to the yacht.” 

The luggage had already been deposited in the 
row-boat. Pulford helped Cecil in, Gretchen clam- 
bered after, and himself followed, and they were 
rowed out to the yacht. He led the girl below to 
the saloon. 

“ This is the stewardess, Miss Rosse,” he said, 
indicating by a wave of the hand the Portuguese 
woman, who stood surveying the new-comers curi- 
ously. “ You’ll find her faithful to her duties and 
very attentive. There is a good cook on board, and 
you can imagine yourself ‘ monarch of all you 
survey,’ if you choose. Here is your state-room. 
The lower berth is yours ; the upper one is intended 
for your maid.” 

“ It is all very nice,” said Cecil. “ Lady Trevor 
has been very considerate of my comfort.” 

“ Yes, and she hopes you will throw off all care 
and give yourself up to the enjoyment of the voyage. 
The wind having changed, you may be longer on 
the way, but the passage will be pleasant. You 
hear the trampling of feet on deck ? They are 
hauling up the anchor. I must go ashore. Good-bye, 
Miss Rosse.” 


26 o 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


He held out his hand. Cecil placed hers in it, 
and he then, with a last word of encouragement, 
ascended to the deck. The row-boat was in wait- 
ing. He exchanged a last word with the captain 
and went ashore. 

The sails were unfurled and the yacht moved 
down the stream. 

“ Lady Trevor has been most kind, Miss Cecil,” 
said Gretchen, admiring the furnishing of state- 
room and saloon. “This is her own yacht. She 
treats you as an honored friend. She was quick to 
see that you are a real lady.” 

“ The whole thing seems to me like a dream,” 
said Cecil. “ I can scarcely believe that I be I, as 
the old woman says in the nursery rhyme. I won- 
der at my own boldness in daring to leave London 
and to undertake such a mission as this.” 

“ * Nothing venture, nothing have,’ ” said Gretchen, 
wisely. “ It would have taken you many years to 
lay up a hundred pounds clear of all expenses if 
you had staid in London, but here you get it in a 
single winter. We are very fortunate, Miss Cecil.” 

“Very fortunate indeed, Gretchen. And yet I 
don’t like to work for Lady Trevor nor to take her 
money, since she is to marry Lord Glenham. I sup- 
pose I am foolish,” and Cecil tried to smile. 

“We are off,” said the Portuguese stewardess, 
drawing nearer, as the yacht gave a lurch and a 
bound. ‘ “ I will prepare your supper, miss. Any 
orders you may give will be obeyed.” 


Embarked. 


261 


“We will go on deck for a few moments,” replied 
Miss Rosse. “ I have no orders to give. Get any- 
thing you please.” 

She went up to the deck with Gretchen. The 
shadows were thickening, and so was the rain. 
And with the gloom of nature came back that 
strange and unaccountable depression she had 
experienced before, that terrible gloom that weighed 
upon her like a hideous black pall. 

“ Something is going to happen to me !” 
she exclaimed. “ Gretchen, I feel so strangely 
depressed. I almost wish we had not come !” 

Yet, despising herself for what she deemed her 
weakness, she made no movement towards return. 
And the yacht glided on under sail, and swept out 
towards the open sea and the darkness of the 
night. 

Mr. Pulford, standing on the shore, watched the 
vessel out of sight. Then his florid visage reddened 
with a glow of wicked jubilance. 

“ So she goes out of Edith’s life forever !” he 
muttered. “ Every track is carefully covered. No 
one will ever trace her to her doom ! The thing 
has been well managed. We have nothing more to 
fear — nothing. The great danger that beset us so 
suddenly has been conquered as promptly. The 
girl is got rid of — we are safe !” 



CHAPTER XXII. 

SUSPICIONS OF FOUL PLAY. 

It was nearly two weeks after the departure of 
Cecil Rosse and her old servant from London that 
Maldred Crafton again visited Number Four, 
Queen’s Crescent, Bayswater. He had delayed his 
visit, desiring to give Cecil ample time to recover 
from the crushing blow he had dealt her through 
the lying paragraph he had caused to be inserted in 
the Court Journal. During the several weeks that 
had elapsed since her receipt of that notice of Lord 
Glenham’s engagement of marriage to Lady Trevor, 
the girl had had time to become resigned to her 
apparent fate. He knew so well her brave and 
resolute nature, her strong, earnest, noble soul, that 
he felt confident she would not weakly yield to her 
sorrow, or supinely sink under her despair. He 
believed that he would find her calm and self-pos- 
sessed, holding her grief in firm check, and devoting 
herself to her daily duties with quiet cheerfulness. 

He had determined to present himself to her as 
[262] 


Suspicions of Foul Play. 


263 


her suitor. Now, if ever, his love would be appre- 
ciated by her in her loneliness. He would approach 
the matter delicately ; he did not intend to ask her 
love at the outset. He would only beg to be 
allowed to devote himself to her happiness, to shield 
her from all trouble, to watch over her and care for 
her. 

“ I’ll be so delicate that she will consider me her 
best friend, and a safe refuge from all her troubles,” 
he thought, as he mounted the steps of the lodging- 
house and rung the bell. “ Yes, I’ll venture to-day 
to ask her to become my wife. Old Gretchen 
must have prepared the way for me. I’ll lose no 
further time !” 

The housemaid opened the door. Mr. Crafton 
passed her, entering the hall. 

“ Take my card up to Miss Rosse,” he said, pro- 
ducing the bit of pasteboard. 

“ Miss Rosse ? She isn’t here, sir. She’s gone, 
sir,” replied the maid. 

“ Gone !” repeated Crafton, blankly. “ Where is 
she gone?” 

“ That I don’t know, sir. She’s been gone these 
two weeks. She’s gone for good, sir.” 

Crafton recoiled a step or two in his amazement. 
The statement seemed to him incredible. Cecil 
gone, when she had but so recently come to London ! 
Had she returned to Zorlitz ? 

“ Tell your mistress that Mr. Crafton would like 


264 Edith Trevor s Secret. 


to see her a moment,” he said. “ I am a friend of 
Miss Rosse, please mention.” 

“ The gentleman as was here afore, sir ? yes, sir. 
Just step into the parlor, sir, and I will call the 
missus.” 

Crafton was ushered into the little parlor, and 
the housemaid hurried away in quest of her mis- 
tress. 

The visitor had time to study the vases of wax 
flowers and fruits under their glass covers, the two 
or three quaint, old-fashioned family portraits, and 
all the objects of interest or curiosity the room 
afforded, and to grow heartily tired and impatient 
before Mrs. Thomas appeared. 

But she came in at last, freshly arrayed in a pur- 
ple silk gown, with her broad, good-natured face 
shining redly under the shadow of her white lace 
cap, and with a letter in her hand. She courtesied 
to the visitor, who demanded at once Miss Rosse's 
present address. 

“ That I can’t give you, sir,” replied Mrs. Thomas, 
“ She is somewhere in Yorkshire, at a great country 
house — ” 

Crafton repeated the words in bewilderment. 

“ Gretchen, Miss Rosse’s servant, left a letter for 
you, which here it is,” remarked Mrs. Thomas, 
extending it. “ Miss Rosse herself offered quite of 
her own free will — for I should never have been 
bold enough to ask such a thing of a born lady as 
she is — to write me a letter from her new home, but 


Suspicions of Foul Play. 


265 


she has not done so. I expected that Gretchen, at 
least, might drop me a line, although her English 
is so imperfect, but not a line from any one have I 
received. I know my place as well as any one, sir, 
nor do I wish to presume upon it ; but Miss Rosse 
is so young and beautiful, a stranger in a strange 
land, innocent of the world, and unknowing of the 
wiles of the wicked, and I should feel safer if I could 
know as she made the journey safely to Yorkshire. 
I am that uneasy at times that I am sorry she 
ever went, although a hundred pounds is a great 
sum, and not to be picked off every bush.” 

Crafton tore open his letter and eagerly perused 
its contents. 

“ Why, is it possible ?” he ejaculated. “ Miss 
Rosse is gone to Lady Trevor’s house ! To Lady 
Trevor’s, of all places in the world. What under 
heaven does it mean ?” 

He was absolutely staggered at the revelation. 

Mrs. Thomas was obliged to tell the story of 
Cecil’s engagement, to corroborate Gretchen ’s 
letter. 

“ It’s an absolute puzzle !” exclaimed Crafton. 
“ She has gone to Lady Trevor’s house— they two 
have met ! Are they friends ?” 

He wondered how Lady Trevor and Cecil Rosse 
had chanced to meet. Mrs. Thomas explained that 
seeming mystery. Then, in his own soul, he won- 
dered if Lady Trevor knew her beautiful embroid- 


266 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


eress to be the girl Lord Glenham had known and 
loved in Zorlitz. 

“ Impossible !” he thought “ She does not sus- 
pect the truth. I’ll enlighten her — she wouldn’t 
keep her under her roof over night if she knew her 
to be her hated rival !” 

He extracted all the information possible from 
Mrs. Thomas, and then took his leave, re-entering 
his hansom cab, and driving straight to Lady 
Trevor’s town residence. 

The footman declared her ladyship to be at home. 

He sent in his card, was admitted, and ushered 
into the drawing-room. 

Lady Trevor, in an elegant morning costume, sat 
in a low chair before the hearth. A book lay open 
on her knee, and she held a feather screen in her 
hand. She arose to receive him, and he noticed 
that she was looking ill, that her hard, black eyes 
were heavy, and that her face, in spite of cosmetics, 
was wan and haggard. 

“ I am fortunate to find you in town, Lady 
Trevor,” he exclaimed. “ I wonder that you are 
not in the country, however, with all the rest of the 
fashionable world.” 

“ Except yourself. I leave town to-morrow for 
St. Leonards, on a visit. And afterward I shall visit 
Glenham Manor, the earl’s seat. Lord Glenham 
with his mother are at this moment, I suppose, in 
Germany.” 


Suspicions of Foul Play . 


267 


“ They are gone to Zorlitz. Yes, I knew it. Is 
Lord St. Leonards in town ?” 

“ No, he is at St. Leonards, his own place. He 
went up nearly a fortnight since, having premoni- 
tory symptoms of another attack of his old enemy, 
the gout. He has written to ask me to visit him, 
and of course I must go. This is the first invita- 
tion to his house he has given me since 1 married 
Sir Albert Trevor, fifteen years ago.” 

“ He has received you fully into his favor again 
then ? I am glad to hear it, Lady Trevor, and con- 
gratulate you.” 

“ Oh, I am not in full favor, Mr. Crafton. Don’t 
think that. You know as well as I do that the 
marquis is a crochety, passionate, stormy old man. 
I expect to be a martyr during my visit to him, 
as I have never won my way into his favor ; but 
then, I am his granddaughter, and have certain 
rights that even he cannot set aside.” 

“ We shall meet at Glenham Manor, I hope. I 
am to be there, too,” said Crafton. “ By the way 
what is the name of your own place in Yorkshire 
Lady Trevor ?” 

“ Greycourt. I bought it myself. It is not fifty 
miles distant from Glenham Manor.” 

“ I came to-day to see you on business, Lady 
Trevor,” said Crafton, a little embarrassed, yet 
determined to come to the point. “ I wish to 
inquire about a certain Miss Rosse whom you have 
taken into your employment.” 


268 


Edith Trevors Secret . 


Lady Trevor started, turning livid under her cos- 
metics, as could be plainly seen. 

“Miss Rosse !” she stammered. 

“ Of Number Four, Queen’s Crescent, Bayswater. 
I suppose she is now at Greycourt, your place in 
Yorkshire. Do you know who this embroideress 
really is ?” 

“ How should I know ?” 

“ She is Cecil Rosse, of Zorlitz ! I went to Ger- 
many while Lord Glenham was in Scotland, and 
found that her uncle was dead, and that she had come 
to London. The very day after my arrival in Lon- 
don I came upon her in the street. A most singular 
occurrence, was it not ?” 

“ Singular, indeed !” 

“ I obtained her address and visited her. She is 
no fit match for Lord Glenham, but I do not need to 
ask for rank and fortune with my wife, and I too am 
her suitor. It was a singular coincidence that threw 
her in your way, Lady Trevor.” 

“ Marvelous !” breathed Lady Trevor. 

“ I may seem disloyal to the earl in becoming a 
suitor of the lady he also loves,” said Crafton, “ but 
I can easily reconcile my course with my conscience. 
I know I can count upon your secrecy as far as I am 
concerned, for you would not wish to betray Miss 
Rosse’s address to him now that you have discov- 
ered her identity with your sewing girl.” 

“ You are quite safe with me. I shall not betray 
you,” said Lady Trevor, huskily. 


Suspicions of Foul Play . 269 


“I knew you would not,” and Crafton smiled sar- 
donically. “ I beg you now to give me the exact 
address of Greycourt. I shall take the next train 
for Yorkshire.” 

Lady Trevor moved back in her chair and put 
her hand screen before her face. Her lips were 
bloodless, her eyes full of swift and lurking terror. 

“To Yorkshire !” she said, in an odd, strained 
voice. “ To see Miss Rosse ? She is there, I sup- 
pose. I told her to write me on her arrival, but 
I have not heard from her. I hope she went safely. 
She didn’t seem to know much about English 
ways.” 

“ Mrs. Thomas, her landlady, seems alarmed 
because she has not written to her. But, undoubt- 
edly, she is at Greycourt, and hard at work. I shall 
know to-morrow.” 

“Are you sure that she will be glad to see you ?” 

“ I think she will be. I am going to ask her to 
marry me, Lady Trevor. I can afford to gratify 
my fancy for a beautiful face. I wonder that you 
never suspected her identity.” 

“ How could I ? The English name of Ross is 
common enough, and her name is similarly pro- 
nounced. She is certainly beautiful. I hope that 
you will win her. I have taken an interest in her, 
not knowing who she really is, but, of course, if she 
is the girl Lord Glenham loves, I do not care to keep 
her. in my employment. I hope you will marry her 
directly, Mr. Crafton, before Lord Glenham returns.” 


270 


Edith Trevor's Secret. 


She tried to speak playfully, but the effort was a 
failure. 

“ Poor soul !” thought Crafton. “ She thinks it’s 
all up with her chances, now that Glenham is gone 
to look for Miss Rosse. She thinks that Lady Glen- 
ham has given in to her son’s entreaties, and that 
her day is over. That is the secret of her looking 
so ill. She’d be happy enough if I should succeed 
in winning Cecil for myself.” 

Having obtained the exact address he desired, he 
made his adieux. 

He took the night-train for Yorkshire. On the 
afternoon of the next day he drove up the shaded 
avenue of Greycourt, and was admitted into the 
house by an old woman who was placed in charge 
of it. 

“ I wish to see Miss Rosse,” he explained. 

“Miss Rosse is not here !” was the startling 
response. “ My lady wrote over two weeks ago 
that a sewing-girl named Miss Rosse would arrive 
by the railway- train, but although we sent to meet 
her, she never came.” 

“ What ! she is not here ?” 

“ No, sir. We concluded as she’d changed her 
mind, it being so lonely like here.” 

“ Not here ! Why, Lady Trevor told me she was 
here !” 

“ Belike, sir. But I haven’t written to my lady, 
so how could she know, unless the young woman 
told her of her change of mind ?” 


Suspicions of Foul Play. 


271 


The housekeeper was old and respectable. Her 
word could not be doubted. Cecil was not at Grey- 
court and had not been there. Crafton felt a sense 
of shuddering apprehension — a sickening terror. 
The girl and her servant had most unaccountably 
disappeared. But where could they be ? “ Some- 
thing has happened to them !” he exclaimed. “She 
was remarkably beautiful — there has been foul play. 
But I’ll find her if I have to dig up all England. 
By heaven, if any one has harmed her, I’ll find him 
out and hunt him to his death !” 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

AN UNAVAILING SEARCH. 

Maldred Crafton, seized with the most serious 
alarm at the mysterious disappearance of Cecil Rosse 
and her maid, and filled with excitement, engaged 
at once in an eager search for them. He declared 
that he should not eat nor sleep until the mystery 
was solved. He felt instinctively that there had 
been foul play in regard to them, that Cecil was not 
hiding herself — that some great harm had happened 
to her. 

“ Her beauty has brought some awful peril upon 
her,” he exclaimed, the sweat starting upon his fore- 
head in great beads. “ She is a stranger in England. 
Brought up in a secluded forest-hamlet, among 
simple, honest peasants, she is as unsuspicious and 
trusting as a baby ! And her servant is a credulous 
old creature, who believes people mean all they say. 
They would easily have fallen into a trap. She is 
like a lamb among wolves. Great Heavens ! Have 
the wolves found her and seized upon her? Has 
[272] 


An Unavailing Search. 


2 73 


some one seen her,- admired her, and ensnared her 
as one would a bird ? But this is madness. In these 
days, people do not do such things. Yet where is 
she ?” 

His agony was unmistakably real and terrible. 

He loved Cecil Rosse with alt the strength of his 
bold, strong, selfish nature. He had schemed and 
toiled to win her. To lose her now, so strangely and 
mysteriously, was more than he could bear. Perhaps 
she was at that very moment in some great trouble 
— perhaps she was in peril of her life. Perhaps she 
was dead. He grew faint, and sick, and giddy, with 
the awful supposition, and leaned heavily against the 
door-post, his swarthy face growing suddenly white, 

“ Won’t you come in, sir ?” asked the old house- 
keeper, full of concern. 

“ No. If she is not here, why should I waste time 
by lingering ?” exclaimed Crafton. “ I must go 
back to London by the first train. I will make 
inquiries on the route. I will search for her in town. 
It is two entire weeks since she disappeared. Two 
whole weeks ! What may not have happened in 
that time ?” 

He questioned the housekeeper further. She was 
a simple, honest countrywoman, incapable of guile. 
It was very clear that she had received a letter from 
Lady Trevor, bidding her send to the railway 
station on a certain day to meet Miss Rosse, who 
had been engaged to do certain repairs upon valu- 
able tapestry-work. In fact, on being urged, the 


274 Edith Trevor s Secret . 


old housekeeper produced the letter, and Crafton 
read it. Nothing could appear more clear and 
straightforward than the contents of this epistle. 
The train upon which Miss Rosse might be expected 
to arrive at the station was specified. Lady Trevor 
enjoined the housekeeper to treat Miss Rosse with 
respect and attention, and to pay particular regard 
for the girl’s comfort. 

“ And I’m sure I did everything I could do,” said 
the old woman. “ We’ve no horses here now, sir, 
and I sent the farmer over with his spring-cart, the 
best carriage at my command. And I prepared a 
hot supper for her, but she did not come. I should 
have written to my lady, only I thought she must 
know from Miss Rosse herself that Miss Rosse had 
not come.” 

“ You had better write to Lady Trevor. She 
thinks Miss Rosse here. By the way,” added 
Crafton, with sudden suspicion, “ is there any old 
tapestry in the house ?” 

“ Certainly, sir. The walls of the Tapestry-room 
are covered with hangings all done by hand that are 
five hundred years old. People often come to see 
them. Will you go up, sir ?” 

“ No, oh, no,” replied Crafton, ashamed of his 
suspicion and question. “ Of course not. I merely 
asked the question through absent-mindedness.” 

He dropped a coin in her hand, mounted into the 
waiting fly, and ordered the driver to return to the 
railway station seven miles distant. 


An Unavailing Search . 


275 


The drive was performed briskly. Crafton was 
too excited and anxious to remain silent, and asked 
questions with feverish rapidity, but no light could 
be obtained upon the mystery that occupied him. 

They entered the little village of Masham and 
drove directly to the railway station. Here Crafton 
made eager inquiries of guards y porters, and various 
other officials. Even under the stimulus of the 
coins he liberally bestowed, no one could remember 
a young lady from London, accompanied by a 
German servant, at the time Crafton mentioned — 
nor, indeed, at any other time. Crafton repeated 
his description of Cecil until he was weary, but no 
one had seen her, and he was forced, at last, to 
believe that she had never even arrived at Masham. 

“ She might have made a mistake and alighted 
at the wrong station,” he said to himself. “ But if 
she had, how would that account for two weeks’ 
absence and silence ? I’ll go over the ground care- 
fully and inquire at every station, however.” 

He took the first train for London. Putting his 
resolve into practice, he inquired at every station 
on the route at which the mail-train — the one he 
believed Cecil to have taken — stopped, but obtained 
no clew to those whom he sought. 

Upon arriving in town at a late hour that night, 
he proceeded to his hotel, where he tossed for 
several hours on his bed, sleepless and excited. He 
arose early, haggard and worn, and after a hasty 
toilet and breakfast he resumed his search. 


276 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


“ I’ll begin at the other end of the snarl,” he said 
to himself. “I’ll trace her from the moment of 
leaving Bayswater.” 

He drove to Queen’s Crescent, Number -Four. 
Early as was the hour Mrs. Thomas was up, and 
came without delay into the little parlor into which 
he had been shown. ' 

“ Mr. Crafton !” she exclaimed. “ Why, how you 
do look, sir ! Are you ill ?” 

“ No, no,” replied Crafton, impatiently. “ Have 
you heard from Miss Rosse since I was here ?” 

“ Why, no, sir. It’s only a day or two since — ” 

“ I went to Lady Trevor,” interrupted Crafton, 
beginning to walk the floor restlessly, “ and she had 
not heard from Miss Rosse, but supposed her to be 
in Yorkshire. I went to Yorkshire — ” 

“Since the day before yesterday? Why, you 
have rushed straight through, sir. And how is Miss 
Rosse, bless her sweet face ?” 

“ She is not there !” ejaculated Crafton, hoarsely. 

“ Not there ?” repeated Mrs. Thomas, stupidly. 

“ She has not been there. She has disappeared. 
She is lost somewhere on her way from Bayswater 
to Grey court.” 

“Lost? That innocent young girl! Disap- 
peared ? Why, something’s happened to her, Mr. 
Crafton. Some harm has come to her !” cried Mrs. 
Thomas, wringing her hands. 

“ Who procured the cab in which she left your 
house, madam ?” 


An Unavailing Search. 277 


“ Sukey, the maid, sir. I sent her out to the 
nearest cab-stand, and she fetched it.” 

“ I may be able to trace Miss Rosse to the rail- 
way station through the cabman,” said Crafton. 
“ Let Sukey come with me to the stand. If the man 
is there she can point him out to me, and I’ll ques- 
tion him. If he is not there I will return again 
and again until I find him.” 

Mrs. Thomas went out into her narrow entry and 
called loudly for Sukey. The maid came hurrying 
up the area -stairs. To state the service required of 
her occupied but a moment, and Sukey hurried 
away for her hat. She returned almost immedi- 
ately, and Crafton followed her into the street and 
to the nearest cab-stand. 

“ There’s the cabby now, sir,” exclaimed the girl, 
pointing out a stupid-looking man who was in the 
act of removing a nose-bag from the head of his 
horse. “ The very one, as I’ll swear to, sir, afore 
the Lord Mayor, if it’s necessary. He took the 
poor young lady from our house, as he won’t dare 
to deny, sir, not to my face.” 

Crafton approached the man and opened a con- 
versation by producing a half-crown which he dis- 
played alluringly between his fingers. 

“ My good fellow,” he exclaimed, “ I want you to 
refresh your memory and answer me a few ques- 
tions. Do you remember taking a young lady and 
her servant, about two weeks ago, from Number 
Four, Queen’s Crescent ?” 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


27S 


“ Don’t you go for to deny it !” interrupted Sukey, 
severely, fixing her gaze upon the cabman. “ I’ll 
swear you did, and it was I that fetched you. The 
truth, young man !” 

“ I ain’t going for to deny it !” declared the cab- 
man, indignantly. “Why should I deny it? You 
comes for me at the £time you specifies and I goes. 
What of it ? I did take the young lady, and a rare 
pretty un she was too, and her old furrin servant 
along of her. What of that ?” and he glared at his 
interlocutors, not softened by the glitter of the half- 
crown. 

“ To what place did you convey the young lady ?” 
asked Crafton. 

“ Yes,” cried Sukey, judicially, “ that’s the ques- 
tion. Where did you take her? The truth, young 
man, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth !” 

“ I ain’t going to lie, not for no arf-crown,” said 
the cabman, sulkily. “ I took the young lady to the 
place she ordered. There’s where I took her !” 

“ And that place ?” demanded Crafton. “ Be still, 
my good girl. You do not need to interfere. 
Here’s five shillings for you, my fine fellow. And 
now tell me where you took the young lady. To 
the railway station ?” 

“ No, sir, to South Audley street, to a great house 
there, as belongs to a rich barrownight’s widow, 
Lady Trevor.” 

“ Oh, you did ?” said Crafton, dropping half the 


An Unavailing Search. 279 


sum of money into the man’s hand. “And after 
South Audley street, where did you take her ?” 

“ No’ers. I left her there.” 

“ Left her there at Lady Trevor’s ?” 

“ Jes’ so, sir. You see, sir, the young lady asked 
me to take her to South Audley street. It was nigh 
six o’clock, and the horse was tired and hungry. If 
I’d knowed as she wanted a longer turn I’d a give 
the chance to some other cabby, bein’ as I’d had 
nothing to eat for hours, except one or two glasses 
of beer to stay my stomach. So when the young 
lady gets out in South Audley street and goes into 
the house, I waits a bit and then takes down her 
luggage.” 

“Well?” 

“Just then a gentleman comes out of the house, a 
fellow with a sandy beard and eye-glasses stuck on 
his nose — ” 

“ Mr. Pulford ! Yes, I know.” 

“ And he asks me if I can drive the young lady to 
the Northern Railway station. And I says as I’m 
beat and the horse is beat. I allow as I could have 
been prevailed on to go, for a cab-horse will always 
stand a few miles more, but the gentleman says, 
‘All right,’ says he, and he pays me up liberal and 
something extra for beer, and so I goes.” 

“ And you did not take the young lady away from 
South Audley street ?” 

“ No, I didn’t.” 


28 o 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


“ And you haven’t seen her since she entered that 
house ?” 

“ I didn’t say that, sir.” 

“You have seen her since? Where? Here’s 
another crown. Where have you seen her since?” 
demanded Crafton, eagerly. 

“ Well, you see, sir, I thought as I might pick 
up a fare on my way home, so I sort of loitered 
along, stopping frequent,” said the cabman, reflec- 
tively. “ And I was looking around for a fare. It 
was fifteen minutes after I left South Audley street, 
and I hadn’t got far, as I’d slipped into a by-place 
and took another beer, when a cab goes past me 
with that there identical luggage on top as I’d left 
at South Audley street, and I’d swear to the pork- 
mantle and the trunk, both being foreign-looking 
and uncommon-like. And I catches a glimpse for 
jest one instant, but long enough to swear to ’em, of 
the young lady inside and her old servant. They 
were alone in there and on their way to the railway- 
station.” 

“ Proof that she left Lady Trevor’s house,” 
thought Crafton. “ That is all you can tell me ?” he 
said, aloud. 

“ All, sir. What’s the row ? Is the young lady 
missing ?” 

“ That she is !” cried Sukey, putting her apron to 
her eyes. “And a sweeter nor more beautiful 
young lady never lived. So sweet-spoken as she 
was, too, and so gentle and kind, a real lady, as I 


A n Unavailing Search. 


281 


knows ’em, and can’t be deceived in ’em. Maybe 
she’s been burked, oh, my poor young lady. And 
old Gretchen, too. If I was the p’leece I’d tear 
down every house in London but I’d find her.” 

“ Come, Sukey,” said Crafton. “ You’re drawing a 
crowd. Home with you, girl, to your mistress. 
Tell her of my discover)^, and say that if I find Miss 
Rosse I shall bring her back to her old lodgings. 
Off with you.” 

He tossed her a shilling, watched her scamper 
homewards, and then engaged a fresh cab, and drove 
to South Audley street. 

Lady Trevor was at home. He sent up his card, 
and paused a few moments to interrogate the foot- 
man. 

“ See here, my good fellow,” he exclaimed, pro- 
ducing a half sovereign, money being the “ open 
sesame ” to the heart of the lower-class Briton, “ I 
want to ask you a few questions. Do you remember 
a young lady who came here over two weeks ago 
with an old German servant ? The young lady was 
Miss Rosse, an embroideress — ” 

“ I remember, sir." 

“ Do you know where she is ?” 

“ At Greycourt, sir. My lady sent her there to do 
some work.” 

“ She came in one cab and went away in another, 
did she not ?” 

“ Yes, sir. The first cabby did not want to go fur- 


282 


Edith Trevor's Secret. 


ther, so I ran out and fetched a cab to take her to 
the railway station." 

“You did. Very good. Where did you find the 
cab ? At the stand ?’’ 

“ No, sir. I picked it up as it was passing." 

“ Confusion ! Did you take the number ?" 

“ No, sir. I never thought of the number.” 

“ Then it’s impossible to trace the cab. A 
chance vehicle which can never be found if I hunt 
years for it." 

“ You might advertise, sir." 

“ So I might, but suppose I don’t want to adver- 
tise ? I don’t like to spread my private affairs 
abroad to all England. You saw Miss Rosse go 
away in the second cab ?” 

“ I did, sir." 

“ Who gave the order to the cabman ?" 

“ Mr. Pulford, sir. He went down to the cab and 
helped the young lady in. And he gave the order 
to the station — ’’ 

“ You heard him ?’’ 

“ Of course I did, sir," replied the man, honestly 
enough, Pulford’s remark to him after the depart- 
ure of the vehicle having lingered in his confused 
memory. “ I heard him distinct, sir. ‘ To the rail- 
way station at Euston Square.’ Them’s the words, 
sir." 

Crafton dropped the coin into the man’s hand. 

“ It is proved that Miss Rosse came to this house 
on the day she left Bayswater," he thought, “ and 


An Unavailing Search . 283 


it is doubly proved that she quitted it. I don’t 
know what strange and intangible suspicion was in 
my mind. Lady Trevor did not know that this 
Miss Rosse was Glenham’s betrothed wife, so of 
course she could not have wreaked any jealousy 
upon her. Bah ! What an idea ! As if the hand- 
some woman of society were a Borgia or a Brin- 
villiers ! She would have done the girl no harm if 
she had known her identity. Of course not. And 
yet I think the black-eyed widow is capable of bold 
deeds of — let me say unscrupulousness — that would 
amaze her admiring world.” 

A second footman, he who had taken up the card, 
returned with the announcement that Lady Trevor 
would see her visitor. 

Crafton followed the man up-stairs and was 
ushered into the drawing-room, his name being 
announced as he passed in. 

Lady Trevor was alone. She gave one swift 
glance at Grafton’s troubled visage as he entered, 
and came forward to meet him, smiling. 

She looked better in health than when he had 
last seen her, only two days before. Her eyes were 
no longer haggard, her complexion no longer livid. 
She looked as if a great load of apprehension had 
been removed from her, as if her terrors had given 
place to a sense of security. 

“ I am glad to see you looking so well, Lady 
Trevor,” said Crafton, advancing towards her. “ I 
am come again on business — ” 


284 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


“ A little later and you would have missed seeing 
me,” said Lady Trevor. “ I am going to St. Leon- 
ards to-day.” 

“ The marquis is not ill, I hope ?” 

“ He has premonitions of gout still, and is obliged 
to keep very quiet. He has sent for me repeatedly, 
and last evening I received a very peremptory mes- 
sage, commanding me to come to St. Leonards 
to-day. Possibly he intends making his will in my 
favor. I have reason to expect it.” 

“ And that expectation makes you look very 
happy. With all your wealth, what need have you 
of further stores ? ‘ To him that hath shall be 

given.’ It’s the way of the world. Now, it’s safe to 
say that nobody will ever send me a peremptory 
message to come and visit him while he makes a 
will in my favor !” 

“ ‘ It’s better to be born lucky than rich,’ ” said 
Lady Trevor, smiling. “Iam one of the fortunate 
ones, Mr. Crafton.” 

“ Indeed you are. The magnificent fortune you 
inherited through so narrow a chance from your 
step-mother, by the death of her little child, proves 
that,” replied Crafton. “But I did not come to 
discuss your brilliant prospects, but my own affairs.” 

“ Well, you have told your love to Miss Rosse, and 
have been accepted ? Is that it ? And you desire 
me to relinquish my claims upon Miss Rosse’s time 
and release her from her engagement ?” asked the 


An Unavailing Seared. 


285 


widow, with an appearance of friendly interest. 
“ You may count upon my good offices — ” 

“I have no such statement to make. Lady 
Trevor, Miss Rosse has not been to Greycourt.” 

“ Not been to Greycourt !” 

“ She has disappeared. I can find no trace of her 
anywhere. I have seen her landlady again this 
morning and the cabman who brought her here, but 
I can get no clue to the mystery.'’ 

“ This is most singular.” 

“ I came back to you with the hope that since my 
previous visit you might have heard from Miss 
Rosse.” 

“ But I have not done so. I supposed her at 
Greycourt. Something must have happened to her. 
Can she have lost her way and become stranded in 
some strange town ? Can she, through some sudden 
impulse, have gone back to Zorlitz ?” 

“ I never thought of that.” 

“ It is possible. Lord Glenham is expected home 
in a day or two, and will come to St. Leonards. I 
think if he has found the girl — to think of her being 
his Cecil Rosse and I never to suspect the truth — 
that she will be with him and his mother. If you 
set out for Zorlitz to-night you will meet the earl in 
Paris.” 

“ I don’t want to meet him. I shall have to 
account to him for my treachery in going back to 
Zorlitz after we left the village together,” said 
Crafton, gloomily. “ I will wait in London until he 


286 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


arrives. Then I will see him and discover what he 
has heard, and excuse myself as I am best able.” 

“ The earl is too much attached to you to remain 
unforgiving, and you are much too clever not to be 
able to represent matters in a light to take all blame 
from yourself,” said Lady Trevor. 

Crafton made a movement toward the door. 

“I will continue my researches until Glenham 
comes,” he exclaimed. “ I cannot think that Miss 
Rosse would return to Germany when she was doing 
well here. What can she do in that dead-alive, little 
peasant-hamlet ?” 

“ She may have heard that Lord Glenham has 
gone there. One cannot make a move now-a-days 
but it is chronicled in the newspapers.” 

The idea had an element of plausibility, or rather 
possibility, in it that arrested Crafton’s attention in 
spite of its baselessness. 

He promised to consider it, and took his leave. 

Upon the grand staircase he encountered Mr. 
Pulford face to face. 

Pulford was freshly attired, but looked travel - 
worn. He had just returned from a two weeks’ 
absence, his destination being a secret between him 
and Lady Trevor. 

Crafton, knowing nothing of his recent absence, 
stopped to interrogate him upon the subject that 
filled his thoughts ; but Mr. Pulford’s statement 
was simply a corroboration of what he had already 


An Unavailing Search. 


287 


heard. Crafton descended the stairs, and Pulford 
went on to the drawing-room. 

Lady Trevor sprang forward to meet him. 

“ I am glad to see you back again/' she exclaimed. 
“ You met Mr. Crafton on the stair ?” 

“Yes. He will have hard work to find Miss 
Rosse,” said Pulford, jubilantly. “ She is disposed 
of, Edith. I defy Crafton and Lord Glenham and 
all the world to find her. And now you must set 
our wedding-day. When is it to be ?” 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

AT ST. LEONARDS. 

St. Leonards, in Sussex, was a magnificent estate, 
comprising a thousand acres, laid out in farms, all 
in the highest state of tillage, in pastures and mead- 
ows, park and woodland. The house was a great, 
massive, gray stone pile, of composite styles of 
architecture, forming a princely dwelling. It was 
approached by a wide and stately avenue a mile or 
more in length, bordered with great rows of elm 
trees, and was set in the midst of the park, with its 
stretches of velvet sward, its clumps of trees, its red 
and fallow deer, and its ornamental lake in full view 
of the drawing-room windows — as fair a landscape 
as ever greeted human eyes. 

Lord St. Leonards had come down to his country- 
place immediately after his interview with Lady 
Trevor at her town-house, which we have recorded. 
He had visited his lawyer, according to his declared 
intention, and had enjoined him to make arrange- 
ments with the parents of Miss Rosse for the young 
[288] 



A t St. Leonards. 


289 


lady’s legal adoption by his lordship, the marquis 
entertaining no doubt of Cecil’s own consent. He 
informed his lawyer that Lady Trevor would find 
for him the young lady’s address during the follow- 
ing week, when it would be forwarded to Mr. 
Barker. Upon the very evening succeeding that 
interview, the marquis experienced the pangs 
attending the return of his old enemy, the gout. 

A physician was called in and counseled his lord- 
ship’s return to his country house, and absolute rest 
and freedom from all excitement. Lord St. Leon- 
ards, chafing at his forced departure at a time when 
he especially desired to remain in town, journeyed 
down to St. Leonards and nursed his afflicted foot 
and growled at his long-suffering and devoted valet. 

A week had passed, but no letter came from Lady 
Trevor. Lord St. Leonards telegraphed to her to 
send him Miss Rosse’s address. She responded by 
telegram that she had not seen the young lady since 
his visit, and could not give it. The marquis, in a 
fury, telegraphed his lawyer to see Lady Trevor 
and learn where she had first met Miss Rosse. Mr. 
Barker called upon the widow and made the neces- 
sary inquiries. She informed him that a friend of 
hers, now in Italy, had recommended the young 
woman to her. 

“ I never knew the girl’s address/’ she declared. 
“ She used to come to me always for work. I never 
sent for her.” 

“ But did you give out valuable work to a person 


290 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


whose address you did not know, Lady Trevor ?” 
asked the lawyer, gravely. 

<k It don’t look business-like, I confess,” said the 
baronet’s widow. “I always was a thoughtless 
creature, and my friend’s recommendation deprived 
me of all sense of caution.” 

“ You know, the marquis,” said Mr. Barker. 
“ When he sets his heart on having anything, he’ll 
move heaven and earth, if possible, to obtain it. He 
has taken a fancy to this young girl, a remarkable 
fancy, and I am not sure but that, in his lonely old 
age, this craving of nature for filial care and affec- 
tion is a demand that ought to be gratified, even at 
cost to yourself, Lady Trevor. In any case, whether 
others are pleased or displeased, he will have his own 
will. Now, if you will give me your friend’s address 
in Italy, I will telegraph to her for Miss Rosse’s 
address.” 

“ I have not my friend’s address,” said the widow, 
desperately. 

“ Tell me )'our friend’s name, and I’ll find where 
she is, my lady.” 

“ My friend’s name ?” stammered Lady Trevor. 
“ Why, how can I remember who recommends to 
me my shop-keepers and sewing-women ? I don’t 
remember. And let me tell you, sir, that I don’t 
approve my grandfather’s project of adopting a low- 
born young woman into the place I should hold—” 

“ The place you forfeited, Lady Trevor when you 
married against his lordship’s will.” 


At St. Leonards. 


29 


“ He has forgiven me. Cease your insolence, Mr. 
Barker. How dare you remind me of the past when 
he has forgiven it ? I will not hold any further com- 
munication with you concerning Miss Rosse. If she 
has not stolen my goods and fled the country — if she 
should ever present herself again at my house — I 
will procure her address and send it to my grand- 
father, as I promised. Till then, I desire not to be 
troubled about her.” 

Mr. Barker took good care not to call upon Lady 
Trevor again. But he consulted a directory, and 
dispatched some of his clerks to search out every 
man named Ross in the district of Southwark, 
whether shoemaker or other artisan, and made every 
effort to find the supposed family of Cecil. A week 
passed in this vain search, and then the lawyer 
journeyed down to St. Leonards with his report. 

The marquis was seated in his grand library, 
before a glowing hearth, and near a wide oriel win- 
dow overlooking the park. One leg was upon a 
foot-rest, swathed in bandages. He was in a bad 
humor. His frosty blue eyes were colder and 
sterner than ever, and emitted a scintillant light. 
His mouth was compressed firmly under his bushy, 
white mustache. A little table at his elbow was 
covered with writing materials. He had j ust written 
a telegraphic dispatch to his granddaughter, Lady 
Trevor, to come to him by the first train. 

“ I’ve telegraphed her two or three times already,” 


292 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


he muttered, “ and I’ll keep it up until she’s here. 
Why don’t Barker come ?” 

He rung his little silver call-bell fiercely. 

His valet appeared. 

“ Let that message be sent immediately !” he 
commanded. “ Do you hear, you blockhead ? Why 
do you stand there like an idiot ?” 

“ If you please, my lord, Mr. Barker’s come.” 

“ Show him in then, dolt ! Was there ever such 
a fool ? Off with you — ” 

The valet disappeared, and the next moment the 
lawyer entered. 

“ Here I am, tied down with this infernal gout,” 
exclaimed the marquis. “ And the doctor says I 
am not to be excited. How the Lord am I to help 
it? I’ve been expecting you these three days. 
Have you found Miss Rosse ?” 

“ No, my lord. I’ve looked after every Ross in 
Southwark, and have not found the right one.” 

“ You haven’t a decent clerk in your office !” 
cried the marquis, testily. “ Not found her ? Do 
you suppose I am going to stand this cursed ineffi- 
ciency of your apprentices ? Have you seen Lady 
Trevor ?” 

“ Not since the interview of which I wrote you. 
But I believe that her ladyship has Miss Rosse ’s 
address, and refuses to give it through fear of being 
supplanted in your favor by her.” 

“ Supplanted in my favor — Lady Trevor never 


At St . Leonards . 


2 93 


was in my favor. But she is deceitful enough to 
play me such a trick." 

The valet reappeared, with an envelope on a 
salver. 

“A telegram, my lord !" he said. 

The marquis tore open the envelope. 

“It is from Lady Trevor !" he ejaculated, as his 
servant retired. “ She is on her way. Will be here 
in an hour !’’ 

“ Then, my lord, you can question her for your- 
self. She may answer you when she would not 
deign to speak to me," said Mr. Barker. “But 
before she comes I have something of importance 
to say to you. I had scarcely begun my story. My 
clerks failed to find Miss Rosse’s father, so I sent 
one of them, Brown — a smart fellow is Brown — to 
see what he could discover through Lady Trevor’s 
hall -porter, the very man who would be likely to 
know Miss Rosse’s address, if any servant of Lady 
Trevor’s knew it." 

“ And Brown discovered — " 

“ That Miss Rosse had been employed by a 
Madame Lange, of Regent street, a dealer in fancy- 
work, embroideries, and fol-de-rols of that sort. 
The hall-porter said that Madame Lange had 
recommended Miss Rosse to Lady Trevor. The 
information cost Brown a pretty penny, which of 
course I repaid him." 

“ And then ?" 

“ Then Brown went to Madame Lange, and 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


294 


found that— but here comes in a mystery. He 
learned that Miss Rosse lives at Bayswater, but 
that she had left her lodgings to work for Lady 
Trevor, and that she was gone to Greycourt in 
Yorkshire,” 

“ And Edith played false all this while to me. 
She sent Miss Rosse to Yorkshire to get her out of 
my way, did she ?” 

“I telegraphed to Miss Rosse at Greycourt, but 
received no answer. Then I repeated the message ; 
still no answer. Then I telegraphed to a person of 
whom I know at Masham and requested him to go 
to Greycourt and see Miss Rosse for me. His 
answer came yesterday. Miss Rosse has not been at 
Greycourt.” 

“ Then where is she ?” 

“ I have learned her address in Bayswater, and 
I went there. The landlady told me that Miss 
Rosse went away over a fortnight ago and she has 
not seen her since.” 

“ Her lodgings — Bayswater ! Then Edith has 
lied from the beginning ! There was no shoemaker 
father in Southwark, there are no brothers and 
sisters— Edith has deceived me throughout.” 

“Precisely, my lord.” 

“ She was afraid I’d leave my money to a stranger. 
I see through her,” declared Lord St. Leonards, 
grimly. “ But who could think that one of my 
blood could lie like that ? A false, deceitful woman 
like her mother, We will confront her with these 


At St. Leonards. 


^95 


falsehoods of hers, and she shall tell us where Miss 
Rosse is." 

“ Perhaps she cannot do that, my lord. I find 
that Miss Rosse went to Lady Trevor’s house on the 
day she quitted her lodgings, but she left Lady 
Trevor’s house with her servant for Greycourt. 
She must have been lost on her way. She has not 
been long in England. She is of foreign birth and 
education. I cannot think that Lady Trevor is 
connected with Miss Rosse’s disappearance." 

“ But I do think so," declared Lord St. Leonards, 
in the resolute tones of a perfect conviction. “ She 
has sent the young lady somewhere else than to 
Greycourt, or she has frightened her out of the way. 
I must and will know the truth. Edith may have 
induced Miss Rosse to quit England. She may 
have procured her a situation as governess to get 
her out of my reach." 

“ I think your solution of the difficulty not the 
right one, my lord. Pray do not let prejudice cause 
you to accuse Lady Trevor of acts she probably 
could not have committed. It is clear, from the 
statement of the hall-porter to Mr. Brown, that Miss 
Rosse left South Audley street for Euston Square 
to take the train for Yorkshire. That much is 
proved." 

“ And Edith meant to hide Miss Rosse up there 
from my pursuit. Barker, let no expense be spared. 
This young girl must be found. Lost for two 


296 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


whole weeks. Great Heaven, what can have be- 
come of her ?” 

“ Her servant is with her and has shared her 
fate,” said the lawyer. “ They may have gone 
abroad to their former home. I shall send Brown 
to investigate that possibility — ” 

The door opened again, and the valet appeared. 

“ Lady Trevor has arrived, my lord !” he an- 
nounced. 

“ Show her in here !” commanded the marquis. 
“ Now for light, Barker ! Be searching in your 
cross-examination !” 



CHAPTER XXV. 

AN UNEXPECTED ORDEAL. 

Lady Trevor had received the repeated sum- 
monses of the old marquis, but had not dared to 
obey them until after the return to town of her 
confederate in crime. But when she had seen Mr. 
Pulford, and heard from his own lips that she had 
nothing more to fear in regard to Cecil Rosse, all 
her terrors and anxieties gave place to a delicious 
sense of security, and she set out upon her visit to 
St. Leonards in high spirits. 

Throughout the journey she occupied herself with 
delightful visions. She had conceived the idea that 
the stern old lord was about to make a will devising 
to her all his transferable property, and that, more 
than this, he had invited her to his house to meet 
Lord Glenham, with a view to bring about a mar- 
riage between his granddaughter and the heir to his 
title and estates. 

“ I will do my share towards carrying out his 
plans,” she thought. “ I shall soon free myself from 

[ 297 ] 


2 9 8 


Edith Trevor's Secret , 


Pulford’s claims, and then I can marry the earl. 
I wonder if old Barker is at St. Leonards ready to 
draw up the new will ?” 

Upon alighting from the carriage and entering the 
grand hall of the mansion, she was met by the lady- 
housekeeper, with whom she was engaged for a 
moment while the marquis’ valet, who was in wait- 
ing for the arrival, hastened to inform his master. 
He returned immediately, requesting Lady Trevor 
to join the marquis in the library. 

“ Very well,” said the visitor, composedly. “ Say 
to Lord St. Leonards that I will come to him as 
soon as I shall have become a little refreshed and 
rested. Mrs. Melville, be kind enough to conduct 
me to my room.” 

The housekeeper led the way up the state stair- 
case to the wide upper hall and to a luxurious 
suite of rooms opening therefrom. 

“ My old rooms !” said Lady Trevor. “ How long 
it is since I occupied them ! I shall not be at St. 
Leonards a great deal hereafter, Mrs. Melville. By 
the way, is grandpapa’s lawyer, Mr. Barker, at St. 
Leonards ?” 

“Yes, he is in the library with the marquis at this 
moment, your ladyship,” replied Mrs. Melville. 

Lady Trevor’s eyes brightened. 

“ I supposed so,” she commented. “ Cerise, dress 
me at once. Mrs. Melville, be good enough to send 
me up a cup of tea, and have my boxes brought 
up.” 


A 7t Unexpected Ordeal. 


299 


Lady Trevor’s orders were promptly obeyed. 

The visitor drank her tea, and made an elegant 
toilette. The bloom and beauty of her brunette 
complexion were renewed. Her black hair was 
arranged in fresh puffs and braids and curls. 
Then, confident of her personal charms, and unsus- 
picious of the ordeal in store for her, her handsome 
face wreathed with smiles, she descended to the 
library. 

The marquis and his lawyer were still in consul- 
tation when she swept in. Mr. Barker arose respect- 
fully, greeting her with a low bow. The marquis, 
who was irritated at her long delay, regarded 
her with a pair of stormy eyes, and his stern old 
mouth wore a grim and sarcastic smile. 

“ You must excuse my rising, Edith,” he said, 
with a glance at his swathed and bandaged leg. 
“ So you’ve come — at last ?” 

Lady Trevor rushed towards the old marquis 
with a little cry of ecstasy. 

“ At last ! dear grandpapa,” she exclaimed, em- 
bracing him, much to his distaste. “ I received your 
letters and telegrams, but I couldn’t come before. 
I have been very ill, in bed, you know, but I have 
hastened to you as soon as my physician would 
allow me.” 

“ Humph !” muttered Lord St. Leonards, who did 
not believe a word she said— he knew her too well 
for that. “ So you’ve been ill ?” 

“ Very ill,” responded Lady Trevor, plaintively ; 


300 


Edith Trevor's Secret. 


“ but I am better now, and I have flown to you, dear 
grandpapa, on the wings of love. To think of your 
being ill, and I, your only living descendant, not 
with you. I am so glad to see you again.” 

“ Humph !” muttered the old marquis again. 

“ How naturally everything looks,” said Lady 
Trevor, looking around her critically. “ Nothing is 
changed since I lived here, grandpapa. I have my 
dear old rooms again, with the same furniture, and 
everything just as I left it fifteen or sixteen years 
ago. Nothing is changed except you and me, 
grandpapa. I am more thoughtful than I was in 
those old days. I have suffered so much. And you 
do not seem a day older than you did then.” 

“ I suppose I look as if I intended to live forever,” 
said the old lord, dryly. 

“ I only wish you could, grandpapa. Ah ! Mr. 
Barker, how do you do ? Your lawyer here, my, 
lord ? I hope you are not troubled about your ill- 
ness — that you are not making your will, or any- 
thing like that ?” 

“ Well, no, I am not,” said Lord St. Leonards, 
comprehending that she had expected to assist at 
the ceremony of making his will. I expect to live 
many years yet. I come of a long-lived family, as 
you may remember. Sit down, Edith. Barker, 
please push Lady Trevor’s chair near to mine.” 

The widow’s face was all aglow with satisfaction 
as she sank into the proffered chair. 

“ Dear grandpapa,” she exclaimed, “ how good 


An Unexpected Ordeal. 


301 


you are to forgive my waywardness and disobedience 
at last. I have so longed for your pardon. And 
now, to crown your late kindness in visiting me at 
Castle Cliff, with this invitation to your home, this 
complete reconciliation, is a goodness that goes to 
my very soul. I am penitent enough for the past, I 
assure you. I repented my marriage with Sir 
Albert Trevor before I had been his wife a year. 
Shall everything be now between us as if there had 
never been a quarrel ?” she asked, in her most 
honeyed tones. “ May I not be the comfort of your 
declining years, my dear grandpa ?” 

The Marquis could not repress a look of disgust. 

“ We will dispense with sentiment, if you please, 
Edith,” he remarked. “ I have not sent for you with 
a view to any romantic reconciliation. If affairs 
turn out in the future to my satisfaction, I shall be 
pleased to be on friendly terms with you, but for 
the present I am content to leave our relations as 
they are.” 

“ As they are ? They are certainly very pleasant. 
I could ask nothing better,” said Lady Trevor, 
determined to see in her summons to St. Leonards 
a mark of the old lord’s renewed favor. “ To be 
again an inmate of your home, dear grandpapa, for- 
given by you for my past waywardness, more than 
contents me. When you know me better, I am sure 
that you will give me the love I crave from you, and 
which I deserve.” 

“ Humph !” again said the old lord, grimly. “ I 


302 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


don’t care to discuss our personal relations, Edith. 
I sent for you to come to me because I was unable 
to come to you. I want to ask a few questions ?” 

Lady Trevor glanced significantly at the lawyer. 

“ Oh, we can speak out before Mr. Barker,” said 
the marquis, quickly. “ In fact, his presence is 
necessary.” 

“ Necessary ?” 

“ Edith,” said Lord St. Leonards, abruptly, 
“ where is Miss Rosse ?” 

Lady Trevor started. In spite of her efforts at 
self-control, she trembled and was frightened. Her 
face blanched, and a scared look came into her hard 
black eyes. 

“ Miss Rosse ?” she ejaculated. “ Why do you ask 
me that question ? Am I Miss Rosse’s keeper ?” 

“ Did not Cain return to his Maker an answer 
similar to that after he had killed his brother?” 
asked the marquis, sternly. 

Lady Trevor put one shaking hand to her face, 
which had suddenly, in spite of the cosmetics that 
overlaid its surface, grown white and horrified, with 
a look upon it which, if he could have seen it, Mr. 
Barker could not have interpreted otherwise than 
as one of conscious guilt. 

In truth, the question and the marquis’ accusing 
tone struck terror to the woman’s soul. She was 
unable to answer, and sat as if paralyzed. 

There was a brief silence, which was broken by 
the impatient marquis. 


An Unexpected Ordeal \ 


303 


“ I informed you, Edith,” he exclaimed, “ of my 
desire to adopt this young girl, who has taken so 
strong a hold upon my heart. I told you of my 
loneliness, of my desire for pleasant companionship, 
and of my intention of asking this girl to become 
my child and heiress. You told me that she was of 
low birth, that her father was a shoe-cobbler in 
Southwark, and that her relatives were ignorant. 
This was false, and you knew it.” 

Lady Trevor made a movement to speak, but no 
sound issued from her parched throat, which she 
clutched with one desperate hand while she shaded 
her face with the other. 

“ I set Barker upon the track of Miss Rosse,” con- 
tinued Lord St. Leonards, “ and he discovered 
that she was of foreign birth, without a known rela- 
tive, and that she lived in respectable lodgings in a 
very respectable house in Bayswater. He dis- 
covered, too, that she had sewed embroidery for one, 
Madame Lange, a French fancy-work dealer of 
Regent street. He learned also that Madame Lange 
had recommended the young lady to you. This is 
the true story, and yours was utterly false !” 

Still Lady Trevor sat immovable. 

“ Barker set his men to work,” pursued the old 
lord, “ and made further discoveries. Miss Rosse 
auitted her lodgings in Bayswater over two weeks 
ago, giving up her rooms, and informing her land- 
lady that she had entered your service for the winter, 
and that she was to proceed to your country seat in 


304 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


Yorkshire, to spend some months in repairing your 
tapestry work. Miss Rosse went away in a cab, 
attended by her old servant, and has not since been 
seen or heard of by her old landlady. Miss Rosse 
went to your house in South Audley street — ” 

“ And went away again,” interrupted Lady 
Trevor, huskily. “I can prove that !” 

“ Barker has proved it. She went away again, as 
you say. But where did she go ?” 

“ How do I know ?” retorted Lady Trevor, with 
half-suppressed fierceness. “ She had her servant 
with her, and the pair set out for Greycourt, as I 
supposed, and as was agreed upon between us. The 
girl and her attendant were alike ignorant of Lon- 
don. Both were credulous, simple and unsuspecting, 
They may have got into trouble. They may have 
become lost. They may have found some situation 
that suited them better than the one I offered. Or, 
as seems more probable, they may have suddenly 
changed their purpose and gone back to their for- 
mer home. All I know is, that they have not 
appeared at Greycourt.” 

“ Where is their former home ?” asked the marquis. 

“ Really, T don’t know,” said Lady Trevor, begin- 
ning to resume command of herself, seeing that all 
was not lost, and that her secret remained unsus- 
pected. “ I am not in the habit of inquiring into 
the antecedents of the servants I employ. Madame 
Lange recommended her, I $jd not go behind that 
recommendation,” . 


A n Unexpected Ordeal. 


305 


*? I can learn through the Bayswater landlady 
Miss Rosse’s exact former address,” said Mr. Barker. 
“ I presume she can give it. Mrs. Thomas told me 
that Miss Rosse came from Germany.” 

“ Then perhaps Miss Rosse is gone hack to Ger- 
many,” said the marquis, totally unsuspicious still 
of Miss Rosse’s identity with the lady whom Lord 
Glenham desired to marry. “ But 1 cannot think 
she would have gone without informing her friends, 
or you, Edith, to whom she had engaged herself for 
a term of months. She cannot have gone back 
secretly, like a fugitive. Then where is she ? Have 
you received no message from her, Edith, since she 
left your house with her servant in a cab over two 
weeks ago ?” 

“ 1 have not !” answered Lady Trevor, firmly. 

“ It is a strange mystery !” said Mr. Barker. “ I 
have traced her to and from Lady Trevor’s house, 
but with her departure from South Audley street all 
clew to Miss Rosse and her old servant is lost. Two 
persons have disappeared in London streets in 
broad daylight, and there is left no trace of them. 
It seems incredible !” 

“ You have traced Miss Rosse from my house,” 
cried Lady Trevor, “ and yet you dare come to my 
grandfather, Mr. Barker, and accuse me of some 
crime, and try to poison his mind against me !” 

“Edith,” exclaimed Lord St. Leonards, “you 
have proven yourself false and deceitful. I told 
you, after meeting Miss Rosse at your house, of my 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


306 


determination to seek her out and persuade her to 
become my child by adoption. Why, then, did you 
engage her to go to Greycourt to work for you ? 
You desired to get her out of my way ; you wished 
to hide her from me ! Is not this true ? Deny it if 
you can !” 

“ I have no wish to deny it,” replied Lady Trevor. 
“ I understood from Madame Lange that Miss 
Rosse was of a low family. I saw that you were 
infatuated with her beauty. I did not believe her 
worthy of the place in your home and heart you 
desired to give her. I liked her work. I had need 
of her services. So I engaged her to go to Grey- 
court, partly, I own, that she might be out of your 
way until I had had time to win your heart, and partly 
that you might not act upon a generous impulse, 
which you might afterwards regret. There is the 
whole truth. If I have done wrong, you can blame 
me. I am sure that I have suffered enough to be 
pitied.” 

She uncovered her face. That she had suffered 
was apparent in the haggard eyes and drawn 
visage, but the nature of her suffering was not so 
plain. 

“ Is this true, Edith ?” demanded the old marquis, 
sternly and solemnly. “ As God hears you, do you 
know nothing of the whereabouts or the fate of Miss 
Rosse ?” 

“ As God hears me, I do not !” declared Lady 
Trevor, with equal solemnity, but with an irrepres- 


An Unexpected Ordeal. 307 



sible shudder. “ Grandpapa, of what do you suspect 
me ? Let me know the worst.” 

“ I have thought it possible that you may have 
procured Miss Rosse a situation elesewhere than in 
Yorkshire, or that you may have sent her back to 
her old home — ” 

“ I demand an investigation. Send for the best 
detectives at Scotland Yard. Question my servants. 
I insist upon the fullest investigation,” cried Lady 
Trevor, in a fine flash of seeming indignation. “ If 
you can believe one of your blood guilty of treachery 
and baseness, grandpapa, I hope you will prosecute 
me mercilessly until my innocence is proved. I am 
alone in the world — ” she clasped her hands together 
and turned her hard, black eyes upward — “ alone 
and friendless. My own grandfather turns against 
me. I wish — oh, I wish that I were dead !” 

She drew forth a lace-trimmed handkerchief and 
covered her eyes, while she gave way to a burst of 
sobs that were by no means fictitious. She had 
been wrought up to the point of hysterics, and her 
angry emotion passed very well for an outburst of 
grief and indignation. 

The old lord regarded his lawyer reproachfully. 
Despite his dislike of his grandchild, and his distrust 
of her, the marquis could not in his heart believe 
her really base and wicked, although there were 
times when he suspected her of a hideous crime 
in the past. 

“ There, there, Edith,” he exclaimed, testily. “If 


3°8 


Edith Trevor's Secret. 


there’s anything I hate, it’s to see a woman cry.. 
If you’ve not sent Miss Rosse out of the country, or 
done her any harm through your absurd jealousy, 
you’ve nothing to cry about.” 

“ But you don’t be — believe me !” 

“ That needn’t trouble you,” replied the old mar- 
quis, coolly. “ I never used to believe you, you 
know. But I don’t quite think you capable of crime, 
Edith, nor do I think one of my blood can be utterly 
lost to honor. And if you solemnly declare that 
Miss Rosse’s fate is as great a mystery to you as to 
me, I suppose I shall believe you !” 

“ I swear that I know no more of her whereabouts 
than you do !” ejaculated Lady Trevor, with another 
irrepressible shudder. 

“ Enough. With all your faults, I cannot believe 
that you would perjure yourself by swearing to a 
lie, Edith. We shall find Miss Rosse. Barker will 
institute a thorough and complete search for her. 
And when I do find her, if she will consent, I shall 
adopt her legally and make her my heiress. So 
your amiable efforts in my behalf will be frustrated, 
Edith, and any hopes you may have built upon suc- 
ceeding to my unentailed property will be without 
fulfilment.” 

“ You have said all that you wished to say, grand- 
papa ? You desire me to leave St. Leonards at 
once ?” 

“ Not so. You are welcome to stay as long as you 
like, as my guest, but not as my heiress. I expect 


An Unexpected Ordeal. 


309 


Lord Glenham and his mother to join us, and I par- 
ticularly desire you to remain throughout their 
visit.” 

“ Your wish shall be my law, grandpapa, even 
though I am less to you than this sewing girl you 
have seen but twice,” said Lady Trevor, bitterly. 
“ And now, if you will excuse me, I will retire to the 
drawing-room to recover from my agitation. But 
one last word. I beg you to believe that I shall 
join in the search for Miss Rosse with as much 
energy as even you can display. You seem to sus- 
pect me of some treachery in regard to Miss Rosse, 
and I am determined to find her in order to clear 
myself in your sight. That much at least my own 
self-respect demands.” 

She arose and withdrew to the drawing-room. 

There was a brief silence after her departure, 
which was broken by the old marquis. 

“ Well ?” he exclaimed, testily. “ What have you 
to say, Barker ?” 

“ I don’t know what to say,” replied the lawyer, 
frankly. “ Lady Trevor acknowledges having tried 
to get Miss Rosse out of your reach, but professes 
to be as ignorant as ourselves of Miss Rosse’s where- 
abouts. She has sworn to her ignorance — ” 

“ And consequently we must believe her,” inter- 
rupted the old lord. “ The mystery becomes deeper 
than ever. Where can Miss Rosse be ? Set your 
clerks at work, engage a detective to pursue the 
search, and scour Europe from end to end — but find 


3io 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


the missing girl ! There is some great wickedness 
involved in her disappearance. She has some secret 
enemy, perhaps, who seeks to compass her destruc- 
tion. Whatever the mystery, we must solve it !’* 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

THE EARL AND THE TRAITOR. 

Upon the same day on which Lady Trevor arrived 
at St. Leonards, the Earl of Glenham, accompanied 
by his mother, returned from his trip to the Conti- 
nent, and proceeded directly to a private family 
hotel in Piccadilly. 

He had visited Zorlitz, and had learned, to his 
amazement, of the Herr Pastor’s death and of Cecil 
Rosse’s departure for England, attended by old 
Gretchen. He had been informed also of Maldred 
Crafton’s visit to Zorlitz, and was greatly puzzled to 
account for it, he having been kept in ignorance of 
his companion’s passion for Cecil. He was even 
more puzzled at Crafton’s reticence in regard to that 
visit, and, during his journey back to London, had 
telegraphed to his treacherous kinsman to meet him 
that evening at his hotel. 

Lord Glenham dined with his mother in their 
private parlor. After the dinner they settled them- 
selves to await the coming of Crafton, both anxious 

[31 1] 


312 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


and restless. The countess ensconced herself in a 
high-backed chair at the corner of the hearth, and 
shaded her face with her fan. That haughty, high- 
bred face wore a greatly troubled expression. The 
proud old eyes were full of anxiety and apprehen- 
sion. She had known, before her departure for the 
Continent, that Cecil Rosse was no longer at Zorlitz. 
Crafton having deemed it best to inform her of his 
secret visit to the Black Forest. She had kept this 
knowledge to herself until now, but at what cost 
she best knew. With a nice sense of honor, proud 
of her truthfulness and courage, it required all }ier 
idolatrous love for her son, all her strong deter- 
mination to save him from the clutches of a sup- 
posed adventuress, to reconcile her to the part she 
was playing. 

The earl was too absorbed in his own anxieties to 
pay special heed to those of his mother. His fair 
and noble face looked haggard and worn ; his warm 
grey eyes were full of trouble. He arose and began 
to pace the floor. 

“ Strange that Crafton does not come !” he 
exclaimed, looking at his watch. 

“ Perhaps he did not receive your telegram,” sug- 
gested the countess. 

“ It would have been forwarded to him, and if he 
were in England he would have had time to precede 
us here. I have trusted him as if he were my 
brother. I cannot suspect his motives in revisiting 
Zorlitz secretly — yet why did he not tell me ? He 


The Earl and the Traitor . 313 


knew that Herr Brocken was dead, and that 
Cecil — my innocent, child-like Cecil — was in London. 
Where can she have found refuge ? I tell you, 
mother, when I think of Cecil, so ignorant of the 
world, so unsuspecting and guileless, adrift in this 
great wicked London, exposed to a thousand perils, 
I feel as if I should go mad.” 

“ You forget always that she has her servant with 
her, Gordon.” 

“ Her servant, a simple peasant woman of the 
Black Forest, as credulous as a child, would be no 
protection to her. To the contrary, Gretchen might 
lead her into perils, which, if left to herself, her 
superior intelligence would cause her to ‘a void # 
But it cannot be impossible to trace Cecil. Her 
youth, her wonderful beauty, her patrician air, will 
render her marked wherever she may be seen — ” 

A knock upon the door caused them both to start. 
A servant entered, bearing a card upon a salver. 

“ Maldred Crafton !” read Lord Glenham taking 
up the bit of pasteboard. “ Show him up at once.” 

The servant retired. Neither mother nor son 
spoke again until Crafton was ushered into the 
room. 

The traitor came in with a smile on his swarthy 
visage. His manner, as usual, was plausible and 
insinuating. His small black eyes were joyful in 
their expression, and he held out his hand with a 
cordiality that appeared to apprehend no failure of 
response. 


3H 


Edith Trevor's Secret. 


But the earl kept his own hand at his side. His 
blond features wore a stern look. The warmth in 
his eyes gave place to a coldness which Crafton had 
never seen in them before. 

“ How do you do, Gordon ?” inquired Crafton, not 
appearing to note the changed manner of his kins- 
man, or the tacit refusal to clasp his hand. “ Wel- 
come home again. I am glad to see you, Lady 
Glenham !” 

The countess arose. Crafton was in a measure 
her confederate in her scheme to save her son from 
a marriage distasteful to her, and she was compelled 
to greet him in a friendly manner. But she, ani- 
mated by noble, although mistaken, motives, and by 
an idolatrous affection for her son, was as different 
from Crafton as day is different from night. She 
was secretly ashamed of her confederation with him, 
and despised him for his readiness to cheat the 
friend who had so implicitly trusted in him, yet she 
believed that his aid was essential to her plans. 

“ I am glad to see you again, Mr. Crafton,” she 
said, shaking hands with him. “We are just re- 
turned from Zorlitz.” 

“ Oh, indeed !” exclaimed Crafton, easily. “ I 
received your telegram, Glenham, last evening. I 
was in Yorkshire, and it was forwarded to me. 
You are looking ill. Has anything happened ?” 

“ Will you sit down ?” asked the earl. “ You can- 
not be unprepared for what I have to say to you, 
Crafton, now that you know that I have been to 


The Earl and the Traitor . 315 


Zorlitz. Has your conduct during the past few 
weeks been that of a loyal friend ?” 

“ It has, indeed !” exclaimed Crafton, heartily. 
“Why do you ask such an absurd question? Do 
you suspect me of disloyalty ?” 

“ I have been informed of your secret visit to 
Zorlitz. When you left Breezy Lodge on the very 
morning after our arrival there, pretending that 
you found it absolutely necessary to return to 
London on business, you went straight to Zorlitz, as 
fast as steam could carry you. Can you deny this ?” 

“I cannot. I have no wish to deny it. By Jove, 
Gordon, you don’t mean to condemn your best 
friend and throw him over without giving him a 
chance of explanation or self-defence ? I wouldn’t 
have believed that you would have condemned me 
unheard.” 

The air of injured innocence which Crafton 
assumed staggered his accuser. 

“ If you have anything to say for yourself,” said 
the earl, gravely, “ I am ready to hear it,” 

“ I came to London from Breezy Lodge on busi- 
ness, as I told you,” declared Crafton, boldly, hav- 
ing planned his defence in advance ; and when I 
arrived in town I found that my seal ring — the 
Crafton heirloom — you remember how greatly I 
have always cherished it, and with a sort of super- 
stition, as I am willing to confess— I found that my 
ring was missing. You can imagine the panic I 
was in, l remembered that; the last time l saw it 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


3 l6 . 


was in our lodgings at Zorlitz. I laid it down upon 
my wash-stand in my bed-room. I had no remem- 
brance of picking it up again, and I knew that I 
must have left it there. I could not telegraph to 
Zorlitz, so I took the first train for Dover, and 
posted through with all speed. And I found my 
ring !” 

He pulled off one of his gloves as he spoke, and 
displayed his massive seal ring. 

His story had been told with such an appearance 
of honesty that the young earl was constrained to 
believe it. 

But Lady Glenham knew that the tale was false, 
and her haughty old face flushed hot with shame 
that she should be leagued with this man to deceive 
her son. 

“ When you arrived at Zorlitz, you found that the 
Herr Pastor was dead,” said Lord Glenham, “ and 
that Miss Rosse had departed for England. Yet 
when you returned to Breezy Lodge you concealed 
these facts from me.” 

“ I plead guilty of the charge. But how could I 
tell you, Gordon ? You were encumbered with a 
party of invited guests. You could not have dis- 
covered Miss Rosse sooner than I could have done. 
I never for one instant faltered in my simple loyalty 
to you, my friend. I kept my secret, fearing to dis- 
tress you, and determined to seek Miss Rosse and 
find her, and then to tell you all. I never once 
imagined that my motives might be suspected. I 


The Earl and the Traitor . 


3i7 


thought that we had been friends too long for sus- 
picion to come between us.” 

The earl took a step nearer Crafton. Then he 
paused again, in indecision. 

“ Have you sought Miss Rosse ?” he inquired. 
“ Have you found her ?” 

Crafton hesitated. His intimacy with the Earl of 
Glenham had benefited him very materially in many 
ways. He could relinquish it for the sake of his 
love for Cecil Rosse,* but Miss Rosse had disap- 
peared mysteriously, leaving no clue to her fate. 
Until he could regain her, it might be well for him 
to maintain his apparent friendship for the earl, to 
watch his lordship’s movements, and to share his 
life. He concluded, upon the whole, that the earl 
would discover through Lady Trevor that he, Craf- 
ton, had visited her to make inquiries after Miss 
Rosse ; and it would be best to forestall Lady 
Trevor, and make confession in a manner to reflect 
credit upon himself. 

“ I have sought Miss Rosse everywhere,” he 
exclaimed. “You remember that I made but a 
brief stay after my return to Breezy Lodge. I was 
anxious to find Miss Rosse, and to restore her to 
you. I searched London from one end to the other. 
I haunted the streets at the West End. I made 
inquiries in every place I deemed it possible that 
she had taken refuge. And at last, quitp by chance, 
I found her !” 


3>8 


Edith Trevor's Secret . 


“ You found her ?” cried the earl, springing for- 
ward, his eyes alight. 

Lady Glenham started. Was Crafton about to 
reveal the conspiracy she had entered into with 
him ? Would her son, whom she so idolized, 
despise and hate her for the part she had taken ? A 
low moan escaped her lips, and she sank back in 
her chair, pallid and gasping. No one noticed her 
agitation. 

“Yes, I found her,” replied Crafton, recoiling 
before the earl’s impetuous advance. “ I met her 
in Regent street, attended by Gretchen. Miss 
Rosse was doing embroidery work for Madame 
Lange, a French fancy-work dealer. She gave me 
her address, which I have written upon a card 
somewhere.” 

“ Give it to me—” 

“ Here it is !” said Crafton, producing it. “ But 
Miss Rosse is no longer at that address. She has 
disappeared in the most mysterious fashion. I 
expected to be able to find her for you before you 
should discover her loss. I have searched for her 
during the past two weeks, but I can find no trace 
of her !” 

“ Lost !” cried the earl, aghast. “ Why, what can 
you mean? Explain yourself, Crafton.” 

“I have worked for you,” said Crafton, plain- 
tively, “ I have tried to spare you this sorrow at all 
cost to myself, and my reward is to be considered a 
traitor to you. J had thought that our years of 


The Earl and the Traitor . 


319 


friendship would vouch for me that you would trust 
me through good and evil report, as I would have 
trusted you — ” 

“ Forgive me, Crafton,” interrupted the earl, 
impulsively, stretching out his hand and grasping 
the reluctant member of the traitor. “You must 
own that I had cause to be grieved. 1 could not 
understand your reticence in regard to that visit 
and Cecil’s coming to London. I grant that your 
motives for concealment were not incompatible 
with your loyalty to me. Again, forgive me !” 

“ Willingly — freely !” ejaculated Crafton. Let us 
say no more upon so painful a subject as your 
injustice to me. Miss Rosse has disappeared, Glen- 
ham, completely and utterly, as if she had vanished 
from the earth. It is one of those unaccountable 
disappearances that occur now and then, and which 
puzzle the keenest detective. She had engaged to 
sew some embroidery -work for Lady Trevor — ” 

“ For Lady Trevor ?” exclaimed the countess, 
involuntarily. 

“ Singular complication, is it not ? But Lady 
Trevor had no idea that she was the Miss Rosse 
of Zorlitz. Madame Lange recommended the young 
lady to Lady Trevor, and her ladyship engaged her 
to go to Greycourt for the winter to repair some 
valuable tapestry. Miss Rosse, accompanied by 
Gretchen, having relinquished her lodgings at Bays- 
water, proceeded in a cab to South Audley street 
for directions for the journey. She alighted at 


320 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


Lady Trevor’s house, the footman summoned a 
fresh cab, and the order was given to Euston Square 
station. The cab rolled away, with Miss Rosse and 
old Gretchen inside — and they haven’t been seen 
since. 

The earl stood as if turned to stone. 

“ I traced Miss Rosse to and from Lady Trevor’s 
house,” continued Crafton. “ 1 have questioned the 
cabman who conveyed her to South Audley street. 
The second cab was a chance one, and there is no 
clew to trace it. I have worked very quietly but 
thoroughly, and the mystery remains impenetrable.” 

Lady Glenham’s eyes scanned Crafton’s face 
keenly. She saw that he was telling the truth, and 
breathed more freely. 

“The mystery will soon be solved, ’ exclaimed 
the earl, arousing from his brief stupor. “ I will 
find Cecil. Where is Lady Trevor ?” 

“At St. Leonards, visiting her grandfather.” 

“ We are expected at St. Leonards to-morrow,” 
said the earl. “We will go down by the morning 
train. I will see Lady Trevor and discover if she 
can throw any fresh light upon the matter. And if 
she cannot, I will leave you at St. Leonards, mother 
while I return to prosecute my search for Miss 
Rosse. Have you no theory in regard to this matter, 
Crafton ?” 

“ I have,” replied Crafton, gloomily. “ I some- 
times think that the cabman may have murdered 
the young lady and her servant for their money 



LADY GLEMHAM ItOSE UP, WHITE AND EXCITED. — See Page 334 




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The Earl and the Traitor. 


321 


But oftener I think that some scoundrel, infatuated 
with Miss Rosse’s beauty, may have seized her and 
deprived her of her liberty. The idea is not prob- 
able. Such deeds are not in keeping with these 
prosaic days — but what else can I think ? She has 
not gone back to Zorlitz — or you would have seen 
her. She has not returned to her lodgings at Bays- 
water. Madame Lange has not seen her ; she has 
not arrived at Greycourt, although the honest old 
housekeeper had prepared a room for her, and had 
sent to the station to meet her at the time appointed 
for her coming. I have begun to despair of finding 
her. But if you and I work together, Glenham, we 
may succeed !” 

“ We will work together !” exclaimed the earl 
again grasping the hand of his secret enemy. “ We 
will go over the whole ground from the beginning. 
We will trace her from the moment of leaving Lady 
Trevor’s house. I will see Lady Trevor to-morrow, 
and meet you here in this room to-morrow evening. 
Great Heaven ! Wher§ can she be ? What can 
have happened her ?” and his voice was sharp with 
his agony. “ Two weeks lost ! I fear that she is 
dead ?’* 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

A CLEAR UNDERSTANDING. 

The young Earl of Glenham, accompanied by his 
mother, proceeded by an early train to St. Leonards, 
in Sussex, upon the day following their interview 
with Maldred Crafton at the little family hotel in 
Piccadilly. They were met at the St. Leonards 
railway station by the marquis’s carriage, and con- 
veyed over the three miles of beautiful country to 
the magnificent estate which the earl was some day 
to inherit. The gates of the picturesque gray stone 
lodge swung open at their approach, and the car- 
riage rolled into the noble park, and moved along 
the wide and stately avenue, bordered by ancient 
elms, towards the mansion, which was not yet in 
sight. 

The countess looked from the open carriage 
window upon the great oak trees, upon the browsing 
deer, and upon the glittering waters of the lake in 
the distance, and her haughty old face flushed with 
pride, as she exclaimed : . 

[322] 


A Clear Under standing. 323 


“ You are one of the most fortunate of men, Gor- 
don. Your title and estates inherited from your 
father were great and noble. By the failure of the 
main line of the Ravendales, you, sprung from a dis- 
tant branch of the same family, will succeed to the 
title and estates of the Marquis of St. Leonards. 
You will be doubly a peer, the possessor of two 
magnificent fortunes, and one of the most powerful 
noblemen in England. I have but one more wish 
for you, and that is that yon may recover from your 
infatuation for Miss Rosse and marry Lady Trevor.” 

“ That wish can never be fulfilled,” declared the 
earl, gravely, his blond face growing stern. “ I 
shall never recover from what you are pleased to 
term my infatuation with Miss Rosse. I shall marry 
her, if she will accept me as her husband. If I can- 
not find her, or if she refuses to marry me, I shall 
never marry.” 

And Lady Glenham knew that he meant what he 
said, and that his resolve was immutable as the 
decrees of fate. She leaned back upon the yielding 
cushions, her face pale, her heart aching with a 
dreary anguish too great for expression. 

The two sat in silence throughout the remainder 
of the drive. The carriage drew up before the great 
and massive porch, and Mr. Barker came down the 
steps and opened the door. He escorted the guests 
into the house, where they were met by the lady 
housekeeper, who conducted Lady Glenham to the 
rooms that had been prepared for her. The earl 


3 2 4 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


made inquiries after the health of the old marquis, 
ascertained that Lady Trevor was in the house, and 
then followed the guidance of the butler to her 
apartment. 

The countess made her toilette with the assistance 
of her maid, and descended to the drawing-room. 
As she entered, Lady Trevor arose from a sofa near 
the fire and rushed forward to meet her, with a little 
cry of joy and affectation of impulsiveness. 

“ I am so glad to see you !” cried Lady Trevor, 
embracing the old countess. “ But you are not look- 
ing well. Have you been ill V 

Lady Glenham was not looking well. Her troubles 
preyed upon her. The course she was pursuing to 
save her son from marrying a supposed adventuress 
was torture to the honorable, falsehood-abhorring 
lady. 

“ I am not quite well, I think,” she replied, trying 
to smile. “ Oh, Edith, these strange, new complica- 
tions in regard to Miss Rosse trouble me more than 
I can tell you. Ah, here comes Gordon !” 

The earl made his appearance. He had scarcely 
greeted Lady Trevor, when Mr. Barker entered, 
requesting the giiests to visit the old marquis in the 
library, Lord St. Leonards being unable to come to 
them. 

There was no opportunity for conversation between 
the earl and Lady Trevor. He was impatient to 
ask her many questions in regard to Cecil Rosse, but 
was obliged to defer them until after his interview 


A Clear Understanding. 


325 


with Lord St. Leonards. The guests, Lady Trevor 
included, followed Mr. Barker to the library. 

The old marquis was seated in a great arm-chair, 
his suffering foot, bandaged and swathed, resting 
upon another chair. His leonine old face was turned 
towards the door with a look of expectancy. His 
keen, frosty blue eyes lighted up with sudden 
warmth at sight of the young earl, and he held out 
his hands in greeting to his heir, whom he loved as 
a son. 

“ I am glad to see you, my dear boy,” he 
exclaimed. “ Welcome, countess. Excuse my not 
rising, but my old enemy has me fast.” 

Lady Glenham advanced and shook hands with 
him. Further greetings were exchanged, and the 
visitors were seated. Lord St. Leonards inquired 
when the earl and his mother had returned from Ger- 
many, but their object in visiting Zorlitz was not 
mentioned. The subject of the earl’s misplaced 
affections was too distasteful to the old marquis to 
be broached in his first interview with his guests. 

After the usual remarks and inquiries incident to 
a meeting after a few weeks’ separation, the old 
lord introduced the mystery that occupied so large 
a share of his thoughts. 

“ I am greatly troubled, Gordon,” he exclaimed, 
“ and I want your help. A most perplexing mys- 
tery, which I would give much to solve, baffles Bar- 
ker and me also. Possibly your young, keen intel- 
lect may find a solution where we have failed.” 


326 Edith Trevor s Secret. 


Lady Trevor grew pale. She knew what was 
coming, and gathered all her powers of self- 
possession to meet the strain demanded of them. 
Would Lord Glenham, whom she knew to be espec- 
ially keen-witted, would he suspect her of having 
been concerned in Cecil Rosse’s disappearance ? 
Would he suspect that a terrible crime had been 
committed ? And would he accuse her as the author 
of that crime ? Would he suspect the deep and hid- 
eous secret of her life ? Would he detect the crime 
she had committed years before, and which, in spite 
of all her boldness and hardihood, had haunted 
and tortured her all these years like some frightful 
and continuous nightmare ? She trembled and her 
heart beat furiously, but her face was as impassive 
and quiet as though conscience were dead within 
her, and no fear of discovery and exposure ever 
troubled her — so great was her faculty of self- 
control. 

“ I am safe, perfectly safe !” she said to herself 
“ The girl can never be traced. Her fate will never 
be discovered. I have nothing whatever to fear. 
A bold front will carry me through !” 

She assumed the bold front, and Mr. Barker, who 
was watching her secretly and intently, was deceived 
by it, and changed certain opinions he had already 
formed. He had not been quite ready to acquit the 
handsome widow of all knowledge of Cecil Rosse’s 
present whereabouts, knowing so well the capabili- 
ties of evil in her nature, and believing her madly 


A Clear Under standing. 


3 2 7 


in love with the Earl of Glenham, but now he said 
to himself that he had certainly misjudged her. 

“ If I can be of any assistance to you, Marquis,” 
responded the young earl, “ I beg you to accept my 
services. You speak of a perplexing mystery — ” 

“ Yes. Some weeks ago, the night after my 
return to London from the Scottish highlands, I was 
attacked in a quiet street just out of Regent street 
by two bold ruffians, who attempted to garrote and 
rob me. I escaped from them and ran, after a little 
struggle in which I found that I was no match for 
them. They pursued and overtook me, and hurled 
me to the ground. In the same instant a young girl 
who had witnessed the affair from the corner of 
Regent street, came flying toward me, screaming at 
the top of her voice. The rascals took to their heels, 
and I escaped their clutches with a few slight 
bruises.” 

“ What a heroic girl !” exclaimed Lady Glenham. 
“ Most young ladies would have fainted, or would 
have fled in an opposite direction.” 

“ I dare say that I owe my life to her,” said the old 
lord, with emotion. “ I did not obtain her address, 
perhaps owing to the bewilderment of my mind 
consequent upon the assault that had been made 
upon me. She signalled a passing omnibus and 
was borne away with a serving-woman who attended 
her. I regretted afterwards that I had not followed 
her home. I believed her to be the petted darling 
of some noble house. She was strikingly beautiful, 


328 


Edith Trevor's Secret. 


as graceful as g willow, well-bred and with a sort of 
youthful majesty that well became her. I never 
saw a young girl before with such distinguished 
bearing.” 

“ Quite a romance !” said the old countess, deeply 
interested. “ I suppose that you never saw her 
again ?” 

“ But I did. I saw her at Lady Trevor’s house in 
South Audley street, and she turned out to be an 
embroideress — ’ ’ 

Lady Glenham laughed. The old marquis flushed 
angrily. 

“She was none the less a lady because she was 
forced to earn her own living,” he exclaimed. “ 1 
was even more struck than before by her splendid 
beauty, by her unconscious air of youthful majesty; 
by her pure, clear, truthful gaze, by her tender love- 
liness — ” 

The ^countess glanced at Mr. Barker in alarm. 
Had Lord St. Leonards, at nearly eighty years of 
age, fallen in love with some low-born beauty ? 

The marquis intercepted her glance and read her 
thought. A sardonic smile gathered about his cyni- 
cal mouth, but he continued quietly. 

“ I inquired into the young lady’s history. Learn- 
ing that she was obliged to work for her support, 
and being strangely touched by her lovely face, I 
resolved, if she would consent, to adopt her as my 
grandchild, or ward, and as my heiress !” 

“ What madness !” murmured the countess. 


A Clear Understanding, 


329 


“I see many lonely hours/’ said Lord St. Leo- 
nards, sorrowfully. “ I am in the full measure of 
my strength, both mental and physical — but for this 
accursed attack of gout. I occupy myself with poli- 
tics, but I have little else to take up my mind or 
time. My home is lonely. I brood over my little 
grandchild’s death. I think of her by day and 
night and plan what I would have done if little Alba 
had lived. My great rooms are empty and silent. 
My servants go about silently in list slippers. It is 
always as if there were a death in the house. I 
yearn for pleasant companionship, for faces to 
brighten at my coming, for filial love and care and 
tenderness. I am long past the years for any other 
love, but if I had only a grandchild to make my life 
brighter my last days might be full of peace instead 
of utter loneliness and desolation.” 

The countess looked shocked. 

“ My dear Marquis,” she exclaimed, “ do you 
forget that you have a grandchild living ? Do you 
forget that she is present to hear these strange words 
of yours ? Surely you would not wound our dear 
Edith so cruelly as to forget her claims ?” 

“ I am sure,” said Lady Trevor, with her lace 
trimmed handkerchief at her eyes. “ I could ask 
no greater pleasure in life than to devote myself to 
my dear grandpapa.” 

The marquis smiled cynically. 

“ Lady Trevor and I quite undertand each other, 
my dear countess,” he remarked. “ You know how 


330 


Edith Trevor s Secret . 


deeply she loved me when she ran away and mar- 
ried Sir Albert Trevor against my will and that of 
her father? She has always considered herself 
first — let her continue to do so. I do not crave 
the society of a woman of the world. I do not 
desire an interested affection. But I believe there 
is enough of good in me to win the filial regard of 
a young and innocent girl, whom I should grow to 
love and cherish as if she were of my own blood. 
Does my idea seem Quixotic ? It never occurred to 
me until I had met this young lady of whom I have 
spoken. Her eyes, very like a pair of eyes I once 
knew and loved, have haunted me since the hour of 
our first meeting. I determined to adopt her, if 
she would consent. I confided my resolve to Barker, 
and he set his clerks to discover the young lady’s 
address.” 

“ Why did you not obtain it of Edith, if the young 
person sewed for her ?” asked the countess. 

“ I endeavored to do so, and failed. Perhaps 
Edith will herself explain that part of the story to 
you. Barker’s agents discovered that the lady lived 
at Bays water — ” 

“ Number Four, Queen’s Crescent, Argyle street,” 
interpolated the lawyer. 

“ But when Barker’s clerk called at the house the 
young lady was gone !” 

“ Gone !” repeated Lady Glenham in a perplexed 
tone. “ Where had she gone ?” 

“ That is the mystery !” cried the marquis. “ She 


A Clear Understanding. 


33i 


quitted her lodgings, declaring to her landlady that 
she had engaged herself to Lady Trevor for a term 
of months to repair some tapestry work at Grey- 
court. She left her lodgings in a cab for Lady 
Trevor's house, alighted there, took another cab, 
and drove to Euston Square railway station, and 
has not been seen since ! She has mysteriously and 
utterly disappeared, and no clew can be found to 
her fate !” 

A great and growing agitation convulsed both the 
earl and his mother. Lady Glenham was struck 
with consternation : the earl appeared too amazed 
for words. The story of Maldred Crafton upon the 
previous night tallied strangely with this. The 
identity of the girl who had so strangely attracted 
the marquis was plain to the earl. 

“ What was the young lady’s name ?” he asked, 
after a pause. 

“ Miss Rosse !” answered the marquis. 

“ Miss Rosse !” echoed Lady Glenham, bitterly. 
“ She has bewitched you, my lord, it seems, as she 
bewitched my son. She is Cecil Rosse, of Zorlitz !” 

The marquis started in a manner to cause a thrill 
of acutest agony in his swollen foot. His ejacula- 
tion of amazement became one of physical anguish. 

“ The pastor of Zorlitz is dead,” said the earl, 
“and Miss Rosse came to London to earn her 
bread. It is she who attracted you so strangely 
marquis. It is she whose fate has become entangled 
in mystery !” 


332 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


The old lord looked bewildered. 

“ You have seen for yourself,” continued Lord 
Glenham, in a voice of agitation, “ that she is a pure 
and noble lady, and no adventuress. I heard much 
of this story last night in London. I came down 
here hoping that Lady Trevor might be able to 
throw some light upon the matter.” 

“ I cannot,” replied the baronet’s widow, her hard, 
black eyes harder than ever. “ The young woman 
was recommended to me by a French woman who 
has done a great deal of work for me. I found her 
skilful with her needle, and remarkably ingenious 
and artistic, therefore I engaged her to repair some 
moth-eaten tapestry at Greycourt which I greatly 
value. The name af Rosse is so common in England 
that I never suspected her identity with the Miss 
Rosse whom Lord Glenham met in the Black Forest. 
She came to my house in a cab, to obtain explicit 
directions for reaching Greycourt. The cabman 
declared his horse unable to proceed farther, and 
he was dismissed and another cab ordered, to 
convey Miss Rosse and her servant to Euston 
Square station. I wrote to my old housekeeper at 
Greycourt to meet Miss Rosse at the nearest rail- 
way station, and ordered her to have rooms prepared 
for the young lady and her servant. I gave no 
further thought to the matter, and supposed Miss 
Rosse to be at Greycourt until Mr. Crafton and Mr. 
Barker, at different times, came to inquire after her. 
This, in brief, is all I know of what grandpapa is 


A Clear Understanding. 


333 


pleased to call a mystery. The case seems to be 
simple enough. Miss Rosse changed her mind 
about going to Yorkshire, and turned her steps in a 
different direction. Those who know her best 
might be able to tell where she would be likely to 
go. Or else, mistaking the directions, she alighted 
at the wrong station and met with some accident or 
adventure that detained her.” 

Mr. Parker and Maldred Crafton could have con- 
firmed much of Lady Trevor’s statement. Lord 
Glenham, who did not know her so well as did the 
marquis, believed her implicitly. 

“ She may have fallen among thieves,” said Mr. 
Barker. “ She and her servant were brought up in 
a secluded hamlet of the Black Forest, and are 
perfectly ignorant of the wickedness of the great 
world. Some harm must have happened her, or 
she would have communicated with Lady Trevor, 
or Mrs. Thomas, the lodging-house keeper.” 

“ I shall return to town by the afternoon train,” 
said the earl, his features stern and resolved, “ and 
I shall not give over the search for her until she is 
found, or this terrible mystery solved. Mr. Barker, 
let me know all that you have done. I shall go 
over the same ground, but more carefully, and your 
proceedings may serve as a guide to me.” 

The lawyer rehearsed the story of his researches 
in every detail. The old marquis sat silent, digest- 
ing the fact of the identity of the young lady who 
had so won upon him with the supposed adventuress 


334 


Edith Trevor's Secret. 


against whom he had warned the earl. Lord St. 
Leonards, with all his faults of pride and prejudice 
was pre-eminently just. His infatuation with Cecil 
conquered his ambition in regard to the marriage 
of his heir with his granddaughter. When Mr. 
Barker had concluded and the earl had ceased his 
eager questionings, the old lord exclaimed : 

“ Gordon, I did Miss Rosse a flagrant injustice in 
condemning her as an adventuress. I take back 
what I said. Now that I have seen her, I will stake 
my life upon her purity and nobleness. She is 
worthy even of you. What matters her origin ? I 
will adopt her as my grandchild, if she will consent. 
Some awful peril besets her. Find her, rescue her, 
bring her to me, and you shall have my consent to 
your marriage with her !” 

Lady Glenham rose up, white and excited, her 
haughty old face full of passionate anger. 

“ But I,” she cried, “ will never consent that my 
son should marry a girl without name or parentage. 
I have not seen her, Marquis, but a pretty face 
would never influence my ideas of right and wrong. 
The girl is no fitting mate for the representative of 
a noble house. Let her keep to her needle and her 
obscurity. If Gordon marries her, he shall do so 
with his mother’s curse. You may look for her, all 
of you, but I hope that you will not find her. I 
would rather that the girl were dead than that she 
should live to become my son’s wife !” 


A Clear Understanding. 


335 


Lady Trevor’s black eyes gleamed behind the 
screen of her handkerchief with a baleful glow. 

“The. countess will have her wish,” she thought, 
with malignant glee. “ And I — if I wait patiently— 
shall catch the earl’s heart in the rebound. 
Patience ! Patience shall be my watchward ! And 
I shall win the game !” 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 


THE LOVER’S SEARCH. 

Lord Glenham returned to town, in company 
with Mr. Barker, by the train he had mentioned. 
He began his search for Cecil Rosse that very 
evening. Accompanied by Mr. Barker, he drove 
from the railway station in a cab directly to Num- 
ber Four, Queen’s Crescent, and obtained an inter- 
view with Mrs. Thomas. The worthy landlady was 
found in a condition of anxiety bordering upon 
despair. She extolled her lost young lodger in the 
highest terms, and declared her conviction that she 
and old Gretchen had been murdered. She had not 
heard from either since they had left her house on 
their way to South Audley street. She told of all 
the mysterious disappearances of which she had 
heard in the course of her existence, and declared 
her conviction that if Miss Rosse were living, she 
would have written to her, Mrs. Thomas. 

“ The Lord knows,” she sobbed, “ that I never 
gee a truer lady than she. And I loved her, and 
[ 336 ] ' 


The Lover s Search. 


337 


she knew it. She’d a never quit the country with- 
out telling me, or giving directions about the box 
she left with me. To think as I advised her to go 
to Yorkshire to that lonely house, and as perhaps 
I’m guilty of her death, that’s what troubles me !” 

With a heavy heart, the young earl proceeded to 
his hotel, dropping Mr. Barker on the way. He 
found Maldred Crafton awaiting him, and informed 
him of his day’s proceedings, and of his determina- 
tion to prosecute his search until Cecil should be 
found.” 

“And I’ll. work with you !” exclaimed Crafton, 
resolved to share the counsels of the earl and know 
all his plans, that he might profit by them should 
occasion arise. “ I tried to spare you this trouble, 
old fellow, but I could not. But I devote my life 
and energies to this search for Miss Rosse. Heaven 
grant we may find her soon !” 

The earl grasped the hand of the traitor in a 
warm and trusting clasp. 

“ Stay with me,” he said. “ We will work together, 
Crafton. May God bless you for your true, unself- 
ish, friendship in my hour of need !” 

The two sat late that night arranging plans of 
action. The next morning the earl engaged the 
services of a detective and set him at work, but he 
did not give over his own search. He went over 
the whole ground carefully for himself. He saw 
and questioned Lady Trevor’s hall-porter, and that 
person’s story, founded iipon a mistake, was 


338 


Edith Trevor's Secret. 


repeated with additions and embellishments such as 
suggested themselves to his mind. Lady Trevor 
and Mr. Pul ford would certainly have been pleased 
if they had known how well the menial, whom they 
had wisely refrained from instructing, played into 
their hands. 

The earl next sought out the cabman who had con- 
veyed Miss Rosse and her servant to Lady Trevor's 
house. He corroborated Lady Trevor’s story, 
repeating his own former statements to Crafton 
and Mr. Barker. The second cabman, he who had 
taken Cecil away from Lady Trevor’s house, had 
been picked up by chance and could not be discov- 
ered. 

Lord Glenham caused an advertisement to be 
inserted in all the daily newspapers, requesting the 
cabman who had taken a young lady and her ser- 
vant from a house in South Audley street, upon a 
date which he mentioned, to call at a certain address 
and learn something to his advantage. 

He wrote a second advertisement for the “ agony 
column ” of the Times, addressed to “ Cecil of Zor- 
litz,” and begging herto write to “Gordon,” at the 
address of her Bayswater landlady, and inform him 
of her present address. 

A third advertisement, more widely spread than 
the others, published in the newspapers and circu- 
lated in hand-bills, which were distributed through- 
out the entire kingdom, and sent especially to police 
stations and establishments, offered one hundred 


The Lover's Search . 


339 


pounds reward for information leading to the dis- 
covery of Miss Cecil Rosse, or her old German ser- 
vant, Gretchen. Then followed a circumstantial 
description of Cecil and her attendant, setting down 
their height, features, and all the small items of 
personality that would be likely to attract the atten- 
tion of strangers. 

The earl’s next movement was to proceed to 
Greycourt. Crafton went with him. The detective 
had preceded them, but they questioned the old 
housekeeper thoroughly, saw the letter Lady Trevor 
had written her. bidding her send to the station to 
meet Miss Rosse, and even visited the rooms which 
had been prepared for Miss Rosse and her servant. 
Crafton went further. He demanded to see the 
tapestry which Miss Rosse had been engaged to 
restore, and was conducted up to the chamber 
known as the Tapestry Room. 

This was a long and large state apartment, like a 
French salon, the walls hung entirely with a rare 
and exquisite tapestry, embodying Scriptural 
designs, embroidered by delicate hands that had 
centuries since mouldered to dust. Much of the 
tapestry was still perfect, but there were great 
patches which moths had riddled or eaten out 
entirely. A skillful needlewoman would certainly 
require six months to restore it. 

“Of course I didn’t really doubt any portion of 
Lady Trevor’s story,” said Crafton, when his exam- 
ination had been completed ; “ still I am glad to see 


340 


Edith Trevor's Secret. 


it confirmed in every point. It makes our way 
clearer. We now positively know that Miss Rosse 
was engaged in serious earnest and perfect good 
faith to execute a most important work, and that 
Lady Trevor made every arrangement for her 
reception and stay here. The fault, clearly, does 
not lie at Lady Trevor’s door !” 

“ You are arguing to satisfy your own doubts, 
Crafton, not mine. Thank God, I cannot suspect 
my own kinswoman of a horrible treachery or 
crime. What object could she have had in remov- 
ing Miss Rosse out of other people’s knowledge ?” 

“Jealousy might have prompted her to do it,” 
replied Crafton. “ You are blind, Glenham, or you 
would have seen long ago that the handsome widow 
adores you. She inherits from her adventuress mother 
a reckless, unscrupulous disposition — hear me out ! 
capable— when urged to desperation — of crime !” 

“ Crafton, I cannot hear you speak so of Lord St. 
Leonards’ granddaughter.” 

“ Her innocence is established ; I fully exonerate 
her. Forgive me, Glenham, if I run counter to your 
prejudices now and then. We cannot afford to 
overlook the faintest clew in a case like this. And 
now, I suppose, we can carry out your idea of 
visiting every station on the line ?” 

“ Beginning at Euston Square. We must return 
to London to consult with the detective and to see 
if any answers have been returned to our advertise- 
ments.” 


The Lover s Search. 


34i 


They returned to town accordingly. The detec- 
tive had gained no clew ; the advertisements had 
received no answer. Then began an examination 
of those stations upon the railway line at which the 
mail- train stops. The detective learned that upon 
the day after that on which Cecil had disappeared, 
a young lady and her foreign servant, supposed to 
have been a French maid, had alighted at a station, 
midway between London and Leeds. This clew 
was followed up. Weeks were spent in tracing this 
young lady, whose description corresponded in 
several details with that of Miss Rosse, and she was 
finally discovered by the indefatigable detective to 
be the daughter of a wealthy Sheffield cutlery mer- 
chant, and not at all like Miss Rosse, except that 
she was also fair and slender. 

The time spent in following up this false scent had 
been employed by the earl and Crafton in visiting 
every cab-stand in London. They interrogated 
every cabman, offering a large reward to that one 
who had conveyed Miss Rosse to the Euston Square 
station, but no cabman appeared to claim the 
reward. Thus weeks were consumed. The detec- 
tive then, chagrined and disheartened, returned to 
town and a consultation was held at Lord St. Leon- 
ards’ town-house one evening in November to con- 
sider what was next to be done. 

At this meeting were present the old marquis, 
quite restored to health, and as active and energetic 
as the youngest there— Lord Glenham, haggard, 


342 


Edith Trevor's Secret. 


and worn, and stem, with a settled gloom in his gray- 
eyes — Crafton, uneasy, watchful, and suffering 
scarcely less than the earl — and finally the detective, 
who was greatly depressed, but who still maintained 
his faith in his ultimate success. 

Lady Glenham was at her country seat. Lady 
Trevor was spending a month with the countess, 
but was expected soon to return to her own house at 
Grey court. 

“ No answer has been received to any of our 
advertisements, except the hand-bills,” said the 
detective. “ I have been diverted from my main 
search for the Sheffield young lady by several other 
false clews. I have just heard through a friend in 
my line of business of a young lady living very 
quietly in Paris who answers to the description of 
Miss Rosse. I shall leave for Paris in the morning 
to follow up this new scent.” 

a Crafton and I have visited every cab-stand in 
London and its suburbs,” said the earl, despondently. 
“But we have had no success. So many men are 
continually being discharged and replaced by others, 
and so many weeks have passed that I have quite 
given up hope of hearing from the cabman.” 

“ We left printed hand-bills at all the cab-stands, 
and with all the proprietors of cab-lines,” said Craf- 
ton, “ and we may hear yet. We must not despair, 
although sometimes it seems as if Miss Rosse must 
be dead !” 

“ She is not dead !” said Lord Glenham, “ I 


The Lover s Search. 


343 


know she is not. I have a perfect conviction that 
she lives — and that she is in sore need of help. But 
where is she ? In what trouble is she encompassed ? 
It seems sometimes as if I could not bear this sus- 
pense longer !” he added, with a groan. 

“ It will all come out right, my lord,” said the 
detective, cheerfully. “ The young lady is gone as 
a governess, or is in Paris, or somewhere else on the 
Continent. Lor’, young girls are as freakish as colts. 
She was a lady and proud, and probably changed 
her mind about going up to Yorkshire, a-burying of 
herself alive, as one might say, and she might a-con- 
sidered as it would be lowering of herself to do so. 
We shall find her, never fear. There’s no darkness 
so deep as it can’t be penetrated if you stay in it 
long enough.” 

“ Find her, and name your own reward !” 
exclaimed Lord St. Leonards, with emphasis. “ This 
mystery is wearing on me. That poor young girl, 
when I think of all the awful possibilities of her 
fate, I can neither eat nor sleep.” 

Lord Glenham arose hurriedly and paced the floor. 

“ But it will all come out right, of course,” added 
the old marquis, with a compassionate glance at his 
heir. “We must keep up our courage and our 
search.” 

“ To be so powerless, and she in deadly peril, 
perhaps !” cried the earl. “ I received a letter 
to-day from the new pastor at Zorlitz. No one in 
the little German hamlet has heard of or from Cecil. 


344 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


They offer prayers in the little Lutheran church for 
her, the pastor writes, and every villager shares our 
anxiety. Oh, where can she be ? What has hap- 
pened to silence her ? I will not believe that she is 
dead— yet how can she be alive ?” 

“ I’ll find her for you in Paris,” said the detective, 
rising. “ Yet here are three or four clews which I 
intended to work out, and with which you might 
occupy yourself during my absence, should it be 
protracted.” 

He handed several slips of paper to the earl, and 
presently took his leave. He started for Paris the 
next morning, while the old marquis, the young earl, 
Mr. Crafton, and Mr. Barker proceeded to work out 
the clews he had given. 

All were alike unsuccessful. The detective 
returned, reporting that the young lady whom he 
had sought in Paris was an art-student, and the 
daughter of a London surgeon. But his courage 
remained. He had some new ideas to work out, and 
was still hopeful of speedy success. 

The advertisements were continued in changed 
forms. Those so deeply interested in Cecil’s fate 
continued their indefatigable research. November 
gave place to December, January followed, and 
blustering March succeeded, and still Cecil was not 
found. More than one detective-officer was now 
employed in the case, which had become famous in 
police annals, a dozen theories had been formed and 
worked to unsatisfactory conclusion, but all the com- 


The Lover s Search. 


345 


bined acumen had failed to throw any light upon 
the young girl’s fate. 

It was late in March when the Earl of Glenham, 
haggard and thin, hollow-eyed, and with stern-set 
lips, presented himself at the St. Leonards house in 
Park Lane, at another meeting like that we have 
described. He was ushered into the library, and 
the old marquis arose and silently extended his 
hand. 

“ I received a letter from the detectives this 
morning, desiring me to meet them here this even- 
ing,” said the earl. “Can it be that they have dis- 
covered something at last ?” 

“ I fear not, yet let us hope while we may,” said 
the old lord. “ I’ve got a new trouble, Gordon. I 
heard the other day a repetition of the old rumor that 
Lady Trevor intends to marry Mr. Pulford, her 
hanger-on, the devoted friend of her dissolute hus- 
band ! I wrote to her immediately. She answers 
that the story is false, yet I know that Pulford has 
boasted recently that he will be married to her 
within a month. I fear that there is more truth in 
the report than Edith is willing to admit. Is your 
mother still in the country ?” 

The earl replied in the affirmative. Mr. Crafton 
came in and was quickly followed by Mr. Barker, 
and the detective officers. 

“ We desire to render our report, my lords,” said 
Mr. Martin, the detective first employed. 

“ You have good news at last ?” cried the earl. 


346 


Edith Trevor s Secret. 


Mr. Martin’s face grew despondent. 

“ I am sorry to say that we have no news what- 
ever,” he replied. “ The young lady has been miss- 
ing nearly six months. We have explored Great 
Britian and the Continent, but can find no trace of 
her. I may say that we have left no stone unturned 
in the search for her. We have scoured London. 
We have hunted in every likely and unlikely spot. 
The books of intelligence offices, governess-offices, 
fancy-work shops, every place where she might have 
been, have all been examined. You will find in 
these documents our accounts for moneys expended. 
The sums are large, but they have been well- 
employed.” 

“ I will give you a check to cover them twice 
over,” said Lord Glenham. “ And now what do you 
propose to do next ?” 

The officers exchanged glances. Mr. Martin then 
replied : 

“Well, you see, my lord, we have reached the end 
of the rope. There is nothing remains to be done.” 

“ Do you mean that you abandon the case ?” 

“No, my lord, if you wants the whole ground 
gone over again. But for what good ?” demanded 
Mr. Martin, impressively. “ It’s my opinion, and 
it’s the opinion of us all, that there has been foul 
play somewheres, and the young lady and her ser- 
vant have both been murdered. Such being our 
belief we couldn’t in conscience take your money 
and linger out a search which is perfectly useless. 


347 


The Lover s Search . 


And so, my lord, we give up the case. The poor 
young lady is nowhere on the earth, or we’d have 
found her. 

Lord Glenham drew a check for the amount he 
had mentioned, and attempted to reason with Mar- 
tin ; but that officer’s convictions could not be 
shaken. The detectives presently took their leaVe, 
and the four gentlemen gazed at each other in 
blank dismay. 

The case never looked to me absolutely hopeless 
until now, when the detectives have given it up,” 
said the young earl, in a hollow voice. “ And now, 
indeed, I feel that gloom which is the very black- 
ness of darkness. Oh ! Cecil ! Cecil ! where are 
you ? Is it true that she is dead, in her youth and 
beauty, and goodness ? Dead ! I won’t believe it ! 
Dead ? Oh ! pitying Heaven, it is only too possi- 
ble !” 


THE END. 


A Sequel to Lady Trevor's Secret , is published under the 
title of “ Cecil Rosse, a Sequel to Lady 
Trevor's Secret .” 

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